#rabbitsmilestone23
Text
Cold
Prompt: Slow & Romantic, Cock Warming from @florxdexcerezo (x) Thank you so much for sending the prompt in. Sorry its taken so long.
Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader
Word Count: Approx. 600
Warnings: Smut, cock warming, p in v sex
Authors Note: I wrote this a few weeks ago, but wasn't feeling up to posting it. I'm still on semi-hiatus, going to be a couple of months more at least, but here is a thingy I did. Hope you like it. Thanks to @nashibirne for reading.
Edited by me, there will be errors
Dividers by me.
Masterlist
Celebration Masterlist
Your eyes fly open. A heady rush of adrenaline pumps through your veins as your hand slips under the pillow on the empty side of the bed and curls around cold steel. You keep your breath slow and even as if you're still asleep and listen carefully.
But you’re too late.
A firm hand covers yours and a heavy, hard body traps you beneath it.
“Don’t scream,” he says, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
You loosen your grip on the pistol and allow the hand to take it away. In the dark, you hear the thunk of the gun being placed on the nightstand.
“You could knock,” you point out.
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
“And yet, here we are.”
The weight on top of you shifts and you think you can just make out a small smile on his moustached face. You reach for the lamp, but he stops you.
“Leave it off,” he says.
“August, please,” you whisper. Your hands cover his whiskered cheeks briefly before he shakes you off.
“Leave it.”
He stands. You vaguely see his outline as he removes his clothes. He’s moving stiffly, slowly and breathing in soft grunts and rough exhales.
“How badly are you hurt?” you ask.
“Nothing so bad that a good night's sleep won’t heal,” he says, dismissively. Sometimes it scares you how easily and smoothly he lies to you.
“Then why are you here?” you ask with a rueful laugh. “The last thing you ever do here is sleep.”
You see his shape pause. You stare at where you assume his eyes would be, he needs to know you aren’t stupid; that you know this thing between you won’t result in a ring on your finger or a pretty white dress.
The longer he stands there unmoving, the harder it is to keep looking into the darkness. What is he thinking? You open your mouth to ask, but close it with a small shake of your head. It's not like he’d be honest anyway.
He starts to undress again. You lay back in bed. Does it really matter if he’s here to fuck you or sleep next to you? You’ll give him what he wants, you always do. You can’t help yourself.
He slips into bed, curling himself around your naked form. His hands begin a long exploration along your hip to your ribs and back again while his face is buried into your neck. You can hear him draw rough, ragged breaths, his mouth is so close to your ear, his lips graze along its edge.
Driven by a primal instinct, you arch your back, lean against him and open your legs in an invitation that needs no explanation. He doesn’t hesitate and quickly you feel the smooth, warm head of his cock sliding over your folds, gathering your wetness before sinking deep inside.
By the same instinct, you begin to roll your hips, relishing the feel of his length as your pussy glides over him. But his hand clasps your hip and holds you still, your ass and back pressed firmly against his chest.
“When I’m gone, I dream of this,” August whispers, “of being inside you.”
“Then please move.”
“No,” he growls, “I need to be inside you. All night.”
You moan and he throbs deep within you. His nose presses into your hair, his arms wrap around your chest, holding you tighter and tighter until you think he’ll crush you.
“You’re so warm,” he whispers as he softens his hold on you. “I need you to keep me warm. I’m so fucking cold without you.”
#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fan fiction#august walker#august walker fanfiction#august walker fic#mission impossible#mission impossible fallout#august walker x you#august walker fanfic#august walker x reader#august walker x female reader
731 notes
·
View notes
Text
a waiting place
A/N: In honor of @sillyrabbit81 and her milestone event. Congrats friend! I don't know if this is cheating but I took two screenshots, sent one and kept one for myself. I thought it would take me days, but I sat down and this feeling just poured from me.
Her event masterlist is here.
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader (my first time with writing him, please be gentle)
Prompt: Slow & Romantic // Geralt // Mirror Sex
Summary: You have finally found a place of your own
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: there is sex in this story so NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI
It was rumored to have been made with magic, but when you finally stumbled across the mirror tucked deep in the recesses of the farmhouse abandoned in Ebbing after the start of the Northern War, it was draped in a dusty cloth and looked anything but.
Still, the vibrations were calling, remnants of your ancestors, whose mastery of craft had placed the various pieces of skillfully forged metal and intricately carved wood together around the silver-backed glass. When you touched it, a warmth spread from your fingertips to your toes, and you knew you were home.
Exactly what kind of home had yet to be determined, since your skills were still newfound and you’d yet to master any sort of transformative spells. Backbreaking hard work was all you were able to put into it, but the efforts were worth it once you were able to lay down in a bed of your own making, the mirror standing in a newly prominent place of honor against the wall across the room.
In the morning, you readied a hot bath, filled with nourishing herbs and healing tinctures, and placed a tray of fresh bread flanked by cured meats and cheeses on the small table beside the wooden tub along with a bowl of warm stew and pitcher of ale.
And exactly three years after your initial meeting, you called out to him, desire coursing through your veins and energy pulsing in your reflection, clearly bound with the mastery of your ancients.
“I am here. I made it. I need you.” You repeated the words in thoughts through the spells you chanted so that when he arrived, he would know why. Pulling someone through space and time was never easy, on them or you. But the yearning was too great, fueling the need to feel his skin against yours, his breath in your ear.
You helped him out of his clothes and into the water and waited for him to invite you in next, knowing full well the need he’d feel when he’d recovered from the journey. He held your arm and wouldn’t let go, even as his grunts and groans indicated his agitated and depleted state. So you sat next to him as long as you could before it became apparent you’d need to replenish the hot water in the bath soon.
He reached for you once the steam was rising from the tub once again. You dropped your sleep shift to the ground and let him guide you into the water with him. “The floor will dry”, you told yourself. “This moment may never come again.”
His gaze was tender and grateful and you smiled back at him, pleased at his reaction to being called here.
“Were you finished?” you asked. “Did I time it right?”
“Just,” he grunted.
“I’ve missed you. So very much.”
“I’m glad you survived your trial. Is this where you’ll stay from now on?”
“Need to know where to find me?” you smirked.
“And when. Yes.”
“I imagine there’ll come a time when I’ll need to go back. I can only learn so much more from books; I’ll need another mentor soon.”
“But for now?” he trailed off with a quirked brow.
“For now you find me here.”
With the water cooled and your bodies’ heat risen, Geralt stood with your legs wrapped around his waist, lips still locked against yours, a hand cradling your ass while the other pressed against your back to keep you tight to his chest. He stepped with ease out of the tub and to the bed, where he laid you down and peeled your limbs from him.
“I want to see you.”
“You’ve seen me. We’ve been in that water together for ages. Please,” you reached for him, but he stood still, head cocked to the side regarding your naked form. You watched him breathe in deeply and sigh the air out as he closed his eyes in contemplation. When he opened them again, you could swear you saw sparks as he acquiesced to your desire.
He crawled over your naked body, drops of water from his long silvery hair landing to cool the fire on your skin. But that flame for him would never douse, not in a million years. And while he had given in to your need to touch him and hold him in bed immediately, he wanted to take you apart slowly.
“Is that it?” he asked, head turned toward the mirror where he could make out his image poured over you, your leg draped over his thigh.
“Yes. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
He pulled back, taking you with him as he shifted to his knees and deftly turned you away from him, facing the mirror.
“What it reflects, certainly.” His voice was low in your ear as you watched the backs of his fingers caress your arms and down your sides. You knew his cat eyes could see more details in that image across the room than you ever could, but he did a good job of putting on a whole show of movement you could see as well as feel, placing kisses along your shoulder as a hand returned to cup your heaving chest. He slid his other hand forward around your waist and down over your belly, reaching for the heat between your thighs. Your eyes closed involuntarily when his fingers found their way inside you.
“Please watch. I want to see all of you, especially your eyes, while you come undone for me,” he whispered in your ear.
You wanted to feel all of him inside you immediately; you were practically bursting with the heat of your need for him but since you knew that would never wane, you gave in and watched the mirror while he slowly and methodically stroked you to orgasm.
You felt yourself floating back to the bed and watched him peer down at you again while he took himself in hand and lined up at your entrance. He let out a long, low groan as he lowered himself to pulse into you slowly.
“Fuck, you feel good.”
“I’ve missed this too, Geralt. I wish it would never end.”
“I’m going to make this last, alright?” he asked, head pulled back to gauge your interest.
You nodded and smiled, pleased he felt up to a long night after such a journey. You’d absolutely have to place a mark next to the entry in your spell book you’d used to prepare the bath, as the concoction had clearly done its job.
He didn’t lie. For hours, he teased and tortured you with his cock, grinding you deep and slow into the mattress while he caressed your mouth with his. His tongue tangled against yours, leaving only to trace lines of lust along your neck or chest. Sometimes, he’d roll you over him and urge you to take one of your many releases while riding him upright, his hands firm around your waist.
You lost count of how many ways he brought you pleasure before he finally pulled you to hands and knees in front of him, once again facing the mirror. Once he was fully sheathed inside you, he gently lifted your torso against him, hand gripping lightly at your neck.
“I want you to watch again. Let the source of your true power soak up every bit of ours together,” his voice rumbled in your ear and vibrated against your back. When you nodded, he pressed you back down, chest all the way to the bed while he gripped your hips tight and rocked into you.
Even now, in this position usually reserved for wild abandon, Geralt made love to you. His movement was calculated, his strokes long and deliberate. His eyes sought yours in the reflection, though it was hard to tear your view away from where his hips disappeared behind your ass.
“Will you come with me one last time?” he begged, completely out of character and for a moment, you felt a sadness you hadn’t expected. Surely he wouldn’t let this be the last time you found each other across this vast lifetime?
“If you promise to come back,” you answered, as if you could ever hold back your release once he began to pump in earnest.
“When I can, yes.”
With that most useless of promises secured, you smiled and nodded again. “Come for me, Geralt.”
It only took a few more strokes before he came with a growl, and you were lost in a blinding explosion of lights. Collapsed next to one another, you steadied your heart rate and burrowed into him as he curled himself around you. His sustained heat would never allow you to sleep long like this, but you sighed with content anyway.
You had a home to call your own, and Geralt was willing to follow you here when he could, and that was all you cared about for now.
Taglist: Everything Henry - Please don't hesitate to let me know if you want on or off, though remember sometimes Tumblr won't let me tag you.
@kittenofdoomage @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @feelmyroarrrr @dedicated-to-mr-cavill @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25
#geralt of rivia#geralt of rivia x reader#geralt of rivia fanfiction#geralt x reader#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill#a waiting place#mine#deandoesthingstome
448 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Sub!Clark Kent x Domme!Reader
Word Count: 1.7K
Summary: For @sillyrabbit81’s follower milestone celebration; Clark needs to give over to his submissive urges, specifically he yearns to be tied up and owned.
Prompt [screenshot at the end]: Slow & Romantic, Tied Up, Clark Kent
Warnings: Subby Clark should be considered a warning, rope bondage (Shibari), poorly hidden Anakin Skywalker quote, oral sex (f/m receiving), cum swallowing
A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. [I promise I am working on Bright Like The Moon still, but Sub!Clark though!]
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
My Masterlist
It had been days of him dropping hints. He was sending me links to shibari websites, referring to me as Miss without provocation, and kneeling at my feet when I entered a room.
The man was relentless, but I understood it perfectly when he explained it over dinner. He was calm and collected, but I’m sure it took all of the Kryptonian’s strength not to melt.
“I save people all of the time, it feels nice to be so needed. It feels amazing to be in control, don’t get me wrong,” He looks at me while rising from his chair and coming to kneel next to mine, “But I want to relinquish control. I want someone else to have power over me. I want you to own me, Miss. Please, will you help me?”
His politeness always went straight to my pussy. This man could hold the planet but needed to feel protected, I could do that. “I’ll help you, Clark. On one condition.”
“Anything,” he whispers, already slipping into submissive mode.
“You give yourself over to me completely. From this moment on, until you can’t take any more, and I’ll be the judge of that, you are mine to do with whatever I please. Do you understand?” I ponder aloud, my hand ghosting across his jawline.
“Yes, Miss. I understand that you are in control,” he breathes, his blue eyes blazing in the low light of the dining room. Damn, he is such a good little sub already.
“Good boy,” I hum, running my fingers through his curls. Now, I expect a response and when I didn’t get one, I let him know what happens when he does the wrong thing. Grabbing a fistful of his hair and tightening my grip, I growl in his ear. “I didn’t hear a thank you.”
“Thank you, Miss. I’m sorry, Miss,” he whimpers, eyes remorseful.
“Now he gets it,” I purr, releasing my grip on his hair. “You’re going to go to the guest room. You’re going to crawl on your hands and knees. When you get there, you’re going to strip completely and wait for me. When your head is down and your hands are resting on your thighs, I’ll know you’re ready to begin. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Miss, I understand,” he affirms, looking down in servitude.
“Good boy,” I beam, getting up to stand over him, “Go on then, show Miss that you can follow directions.”
“Yes, Miss,” he says, hands going to the floor in front of him as he begins to crawl on his hands and knees through the house, looking for all intents and purposes like a cat stalking after prey. But this time, I was the predator. Watching his shoulder blades shift through his tight dress shirt, his perfect ass swaying in those perfectly tailored dress pants. The man was a vision of lust. And I was ready to tear him apart.
In truth, I did make him wait for just a hairsbreadth longer than I intended to. I took my time getting ready, slipping into some new lingerie Clark had never seen and dabbing his favorite scent on my wrists and neck. I grab the rope and my Hitachi and put on my highest stilettos. I walk slowly to the guest room, letting the click of my heels alert him that I was coming.
Entering the room, I see Clark kneeling with his back to the bed. Head down, hands resting on his thighs. My sub is so good at following the rules. And by the way his cock hangs heavy between his legs, I can tell he is beyond excited to start.
“Such a good boy, waiting so patiently for me,” I purr, stalking over to him and placing one hand within his curls and one on his cheek, “We have a few things to go over and then we can get started, ok baby?”
“Yes, Miss,” he acknowledges his understanding, turning to my hand to kiss my palm.
“That brings us to Rule #1: You don’t get to touch unless I give you permission. I will allow you this one mistake, but be clear that is the only one. Rule #2: You cum when I say you do, no sooner or later. Rule #3: If I ask you what color, you respond with green for good, yellow for slow down, or red for stop. Do you understand these rules?” I step back and raise his chin so he can look me in the eye.
“Yes, Miss, I understand these rules,” he sighed, pupils blown and wild.
“Good boy. To make sure Rule #1 is followed to the letter, I’m going to take away your ability to use your hands. May I begin to restrain you?”
“Yes, Miss,” he agrees, watching me as I pick up the red rope I brought into the room with me.
“Good boy. Stand for me so I can tie your chest and arms,” I croon, waiting until he was at his full height to kiss and nip at his jawline as I untwined the rope slowly.
I find the tails of the rope, holding onto the bight, and begin to tie the Shinju harness across his broad chest. As I tighten the rope every so often, I also tease Clark’s nipples with the soft pads of my fingers. I lean in and lick and bite at his pectoral muscles until he squirms. I connect his arms to the harness, keeping them straight to emphasize his chest as he is forced to stand straighter. I finish and stand back to look at my work.
“We both know you can get out of the rope if you need to. But in keeping with the rest of the night, I’m going to let you out of the ropes if you need to be rid of them. Color?” I prod, suddenly feeling the reality of domming Superman.
“Green, Miss,” he assures, cock bobbing happily between his legs.
I reach down and lightly squeeze the base of his cock and he whimpers. “On your knees facing the bed,” I insist, pushing down on his shoulders. I sit on the bed after taking off my lace thong and I put my shins on his shoulders. “You look hungry, Clark. Why don’t you eat my pussy until I cum on that pretty face of yours?”
“Yes, Miss” he breathes, getting to work with that wicked tongue of his. I don’t understand how he is holding himself up without the use of his hands, but it must be a balance thing. I don’t put too much thought into it as my focus is elsewhere.
Before I know it, Clark is humming around my clit at just the right decibel to have me screaming his name. He then laps up my juices as they flow uncontrollably from me, leaning back after I push him back.
“Thank you, Miss,” he says, ever the polite submissive.
“Such a good boy, you are, Clark. I think you’ve earned an orgasm,” I praise, getting up to grab the Hitachi. I play with the settings, letting the lowest setting stay on while I tease Clark’s nipples. When he starts to wriggle at the sensation, I push the head of the Hitachi against the underside of his balls. This is where the fun begins…
With his balls being stimulated, I lean down and wrap my lips around his cockhead, swirling my tongue. Clark groans so loud and for so long, it feels like his entire being will explode.
“May I please cum, Miss?” he yelps, his breathing fast-paced.
“Cum for me, Clark,” I confirm, watching as Clark’s tension ebbs away. His tightly shut eyes pop open and he cries out as his cock erupts into my eagerly awaiting mouth. After a few seconds, I realize he is still cumming and turn off the Hitachi, putting it to the side. I wait until his cock only twitches but doesn’t release any more spunk and I pull off of him in enough to catch him as he pitches forward.
“Clark, I’m taking off the ropes, ok?” I don’t wait for an answer as I make quick work of releasing his arms and sliding the ropes off of him. I roll him over on his back and see his eyes searching mine. “I’m right here baby, are you ok? I think that orgasm might have been a little too intense.”
“I’m…k. Yeah, in…tense. Thank you…Miss,” he stutters, a lazy grin on his face, cock still twitching.
“You did so good baby, I am so proud of you,” I croon, leaning Clark into my lap while I check his arms and chest for rope burns. When I see nothing to worry about, I run my fingers through his curls. “How are you feeling now, Clark?”
“I think a few brain cells are gone completely but it was so worth it. I think I was deep in subspace for a second there,” he smiles up at me, love beaming in his eyes.
“Yeah, I would say so. That means you really needed it,” I kiss the tip of his nose, “So, I think I know the answer, but for my own ego, how did I do?”
“You took such good care of me. I felt so safe with you. And the way you took charge and realized I needed to end the scene? That was perfect. I couldn’t ask for a better Domme. Thank you, baby,” He brings my face down to his and kisses me.
“You are very welcome. What do you say we go take a bath together and then watch some bad tv?” I smile down at him and wiggle my eyebrows at him.
“That sounds wonderful,” he chuckles and gets up from the floor, reaching his hand out to me.
I take his hand and allow him to lead me to the tub. We bathe and get dressed in comfy jammies and spend the rest of the night watching tv and cuddling.
**Tag List**
Henry Fanfiction: @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry
Prompt screenshot:
#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill#henry cavill characters#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill smut#henry cavill x reader#ellethespaceunicorn fanfic#clark kent#clark kent x reader#clark kent x black reader#clark kent x black!reader
421 notes
·
View notes
Text
caught
A/N: So I tried to add to the stories for @sillyrabbit81's absolutely amazing milestone celebration...
You can find the masterlist for the celebration event here
My masterlist is to be found here
Pairing: Mikey (Hellraiser) x reader (female reader, no race, body type or physical features mentioned)
Prompt: Playful-Happy / Mike / Caught masturbating
summary: just some playful banter and porn without plot
warnings: smut: male masturbation, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), p-i-v sex , a hint of spanking, Mikey being Mikey…
word count: 2k
This is a follow up of pranked but both stories can be read separately
@sillyrabbit81 @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @mayloma @deandoesthingstome @ylva-stark @ellethespaceunicorn
If you want to be tagged / don't want to be tagged anymore please let me know
You were about to ring the doorbell when the door opened and Walter straight up bumped into you. “Oh, hey, didn’t notice you. You okay?” he asked. You nodded. “I’m fine, Walter. Thank you!” Why the hell did you thank him? For running into you? Most probably, yes, his firm chest felt really good. But you hoped he wouldn’t come to this conclusion.
“Mike is still asleep as far as I know. But I guess he wouldn’t mind you waking him up. I’m on my way to the office, so…” You were glad he didn’t end his sentence. Because, of course, he meant to give you the hint that this time in fact there wouldn’t be anyone in the house to hear you. Still remembering that awkward breakfast with Mike and his dad after the first night you spent at their house, you didn’t need another conversation like that.
You went up the stairs and heard music coming from Mikey’s room. So you wouldn’t need to wake him up. After knocking on his door, you waited a moment, but there was no reaction. You knocked a second time, still nothing. But it was Mike, who knows where his head was right at the moment? And what could be the worst thing you could run into?
Well, yes, the situation in front of you probably was within the top three worst things to run into in your boyfriend’s room. You were staring at Mikey, who lay on his bed, fisting his cock. Your mouth formed a small 'O'. As was Mikey’s. He was stroking himself at a fast pace and with a tight grip. His eyes were shut and the deep frown on his forehead wouldn’t have brought you to the conclusion of what he was doing at the moment, if you didn’t see it for yourself.
He didn’t seem to notice you, and your mind was racing, thinking how to react. But it was Mikey. He could deal with a little embarrassment. “Doing so good, baby!” you praised him, followed by a small chuckle. Mike’s head shot up to you. But to your surprise, he didn’t seem embarrassed at all. A wide grin spread over his face.
“Hey, sweetcheeks, I was just thinking about you.” He didn’t even stop his ministrations.
You couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Oh my god, Mikey!” At least, finally, he got up and packed himself back into his boxers. The only piece of clothing he was wearing, as you took in, appreciating his broad shoulders and his abs that formed a nice looking eight pack. Your eyes followed down the trail of hair on his stomach. You could still see the big bulge, covered by thin fabric now. And of course, this sight didn't leave you without a physical response. You felt that familiar tingling between your legs.
“You wanna join me, babycakes? I could use some help.” Mike and you met in the middle of his room, and your mouth was on his as soon as you were near enough to reach him.
Mike started out slowly but it didn't need long until you felt his kiss getting more heated. You dropped your backpack on the floor so you could sink your fingers into his curls like you loved it. Mike's arms tightened around your waist and his hands sneaked up under your shirt. You brushed your tongue over his lips and felt Mike's tongue intruding your mouth the very next moment. With the familiar sweet and minty taste of him, you felt a wave of warmth sweep through your body.
Your hands traveled down his neck, along his spine, until you carefully pushed your fingers under the elastics of his underwear to cup his cute ass.
“Mh, look who is needy,” Mikey mumbled into your mouth and you could feel him grinning. He took your explorations as an invitation to move his hands, too, and they went to your chest and brushed over your bra. His thumb slowly circled around your hard nipples. Both of you moaned in each other's mouths.
Mikey grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled at it. Next, your shorts found their way to the floor. His hands were roaming over your body, his mouth on yours, rough and demanding. Fuck, this guy made you so desperate with his way of kissing and touching you! This desperation needed to be stilled. So your fingers were back on Mikey's boxer briefs and you carefully pulled them over his erection and down to his knees.
A gasp left Mikey’s mouth when you wrapped your fingers around his cock. You stroked him a few times, but this wasn’t what was on your mind. Your mouth left Mikey’s lips and instead you went down over his throat and chest, licking, biting and kissing, while you sank on your knees. Mikey growled in anticipation.
You sat on your heels and looked up at him. For a moment, Mike stood completely still, the only movement the fast heaving of his chest. You bit on your lip to hide the smile when you thought what an uncommon sight that was. But then your impatience got the better of you and you grabbed his cock with one hand and started to circle your tongue over his tip.
The drop of pre-cum on it left a salty taste in your mouth.
As you wrapped your lips around him and started to suck him with hollow cheeks, Mikey couldn’t hold back any more, and his small hisses changed into loud moans. His sounds made your pussy clench around nothing and you were sure your panties were completely soaked by now. In no way you were able to take him completely, so your hand closed around the base of his shaft and moved together with your mouth.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful with my cock in your mouth!” As you looked up and met his gaze, Mike let out another deep growl. His hands cradled around the back of your head and he thrust his hip forward. You felt him moving in your throat, as deep as you could take him. Your saliva drooled down your chin. But then Mike pulled back, still holding you, and his cock left your mouth with a pop.
He bent down to you and with one swift movement he had thrown you over his shoulders and carried you to his bed where he dropped you onto the mattress. “Time for breakfast!” he exclaimed with a wide grin. Kneeling next to you, he hurried to get rid of your bra and panties, throwing them onto the floor to the rest of your clothes. His boxers followed on the spot when he kicked them off his legs.
Without any teasing or slow build up, Mikey just dove his head between your legs and devoured your pussy as if he was starving. Now it was you who couldn’t keep quiet, and Mike knew exactly what to do to entice all these lewd little sounds out of you. You started to squirm under him as his mouth worked sloppily on your clit. But when he slipped two fingers into your cunt, you lost all control. Your hips jerked up, and your fingers dug into his hair, riding his tongue and fingers to your climax.
When you slowly came to your senses again, you opened your eyes and saw Mikey still kneeling between your legs, looking onto your pussy like a happy little puppy. Your heart melted at that sight. You grabbed his hands and pulled him down to you, kissing him feverishly. Trying to get him as close as possible, you wrapped your arms around him.
Mike mirrored your movement, closing his arms around you. You didn’t even notice how he managed, but in the next moment, Mike was laying on his back and your body was spread on top of him.
You positioned your legs beside his thighs and straddled him. When you sat up, Mike followed you while your tongues kept exploring each other's mouths. You grinded on Mikey’s hips, your wet folds brushing over his hard shaft. Mike moaned desperately into your mouth. You teased him a few times more by rolling your hips over him, but then you took pity on him and positioned his cock at your entrance. As you rose up to do so, Mike took the opportunity to dive into your cleavage, kneading both of your breasts. Slowly you sank down, feeling him stretching your walls while Mike’s mouth circled around your pebbled peaks.
When you had taken all of him into you, you started to ride him frantically. Your hips smashed down on him while Mike enjoyed your boobs bouncing in his face with every thrust. Mike readjusted his position, and damn, that was a good move. You felt him rocking into you deeply like you never felt him before and you cried out his name. “Fuck, this feels good, baby!” he sighed. You felt your walls clench around him and only after a few more times crashing your hips together you fell apart once more. Your thighs trembled and you couldn’t keep up the pace any longer.
Mike crawled out under you. While you were still kneeling with shaking legs, he positioned himself behind you and slapped your ass. And then he split your wet cunt open again and started to pound into you. Strangled moans coming from him, you were sure he was close now. And so you bucked your hips against him, helping him chase his climax. The smacking noises of your bodies joined the sounds of your moans.
Mike wrapped his arms around your chest and guided you to sit up with him. Your sweaty bodies rubbed against each other. Mike’s hands found their favorite place in the world on your boobs again and he rutted hard into you. Finally, he spilled himself into you with one last powerful thrust.
Both of you just dropped to the bed and lay there, totally spent. Mike wrapped one arm around you and kissed your forehead. “That was better than what I imagined when you came in, earlier!” You both laughed. “Glad I could help,” you answered him with a wink and snuggled into his embrace.
“Mike?” You brushed a lock of his hair out of his face. He was still fuckdrunk and couldn't even open his eyes fully. “Hm?” he hummed in return.
“You knew I was coming, right?” He wrinkled his nose, looking honestly confused. “I wouldn't stop before I had made you come, baby, you know that.” You chuckled and shook your head. “No, smarty, I meant, you know I was coming over to your house this morning. Why did you even start, you know, masturbating?” His long fingers brushed lazily over your back. “It's not like I had planned this. I got up, saw that gorgeous selfie you sent me last night and, well, that was kinda inspiring.” He smirked. “So I started my 'don't-come-in'-music and got to work.” How that man always made you feel confused and totally smitten at the same time… “Your what?” You blinked at him. Mike pointed to his speaker. “When I don't want Walter to come into my room, I start this particular song. He knows to stay away when he hears it.” Shaking your head and giggling, you said: “You know, there are keys that could do the same?”
“Yeah, lost mine some time ago. And maybe I did some things that made Walter believe it would be safer to not get me a new one” He shrugged and gave you a wink. You decided that you definitely didn't want to ask what exactly he did, so you stayed silent. But after a moment, a thought came to your mind. “Wait, did Walter hear that music or did you just start it right before I entered your room?”
Mike watched you curiously. “He must have heard” This family made you speechless over and over again. “So he knew exactly what I was running into," you remarked.
“Yeah, probably wanted me to feel embarrassed. But come on, I was raised in this family of lunatics. It takes more than jerking off in front of my girl to make me feel ashamed.”
263 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mystery
Title: Mystery
A03 | Master List | Rating: E
Summary: A spoiled Duchess, a famous Detective, and a bathtub built for two.
Written For: Milestone '23
Prompt: Sleepy/lazy, Sherlock, Bath or Shower Sex
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut. PWP.
As a Duchess in your own right, as well as the sole heiress to a vast fortune, you had access to the very best. Clothes, jewelry, theatres, art, food, even stationary. You catered to your own whims and spoiled yourself whenever you saw fit - which, to be honest, was quite often.
One of your most recent indulgences was your newly remodeled bathroom, with a waffle ceiling, tile-covered walls, a custom toilet, and a separate shower. There was also a double sink, with a mirrored, multi-drawered vanity that housed a variety of towels, robes, scents, oils, sponges, and brushes, but the crown jewel was the custom-made bathtub.
Instead of having it tucked away into the wall, the porcelain-lined, pool-like behemoth was the centerpiece. It offered a perfect view of the estate gardens, was deep enough to submerge yourself in, and the swaths of fabric bolted to the ceiling could be pulled around it for additional privacy.
You chose to leave the curtain open and observe a late afternoon storm build along the horizon. The clouds rolled in and darkened the skies, which prompted the gardeners to head for cover and the servants to light the lamps. Once your hair had been washed, you refreshed the water, dismissed your lady’s maid, and ensconced yourself in the bath’s rose-scented depths.
Finally, you were alone, and able to have a private moment with your thoughts. And there were many things on your mind - after all, you were solely in charge of your household and had a lot to attend to before the London season got underway. You intended to host a ball next month, and there were several details to iron out, but the combination of steam and heavy rainfall quieted your racing mind and soothed you.
Sleep beckoned, but just as you began to nod off, a soft knock roused you. Perturbed by the disturbance, you opened your mouth to send whoever it was away, but then, the door creaked open without your permission, and you knew of only one person - one man - who had the audacity to do such a thing.
“Detective,” you murmured.
“Duchess,” he greeted as he bolted the door.
You were fortunate. Privileged. Your title alone commanded respect, but you didn’t always behave as a lady of well-breeding should. Unmarried, with no children, and no guardian to watch over you? An independent woman of wealth and breeding who wasn’t a widow? It was unheard of, even obscene in some circles, but you were determined to retain your freedom for as long as you possibly could.
There were many suitors vying for your hand, but none who genuinely cared for you beyond your position and wealth. It was why you’d decided to forego the marriage market and take a lover instead. But only someone who understood the necessity for absolute discretion could be considered a candidate, and Sherlock Holmes certainly fit the bill.
But being alone with a man who was not your husband or familial relation was forbidden. Enjoying a man’s company was unseemly. Being naked in a tub, while watching a man undress and ready himself to join you, was also a wicked offense - one that would surely result in damnation should anyone learn of it.
Sherlock lowered himself in across from you and sighed, “Forgive me for my tardiness.”
You quirked a brow and dropped your foot between his pectorals, “Why should I?”
He grinned. Pressed a kiss to your ankle. Massaged from heel to arch while he shared his good news. Another case successfully closed, this time by his extensive knowledge of perfume and pipe ash. You laughed and reheated the water as he washed and regaled you with the tale. After a while, Sherlock fell silent, which prompted you to sit up and press a hand to his chest.
“Hungry?” you wondered.
“Famished,” he replied.
“Tired?”
“Exhausted.”
You straddled his lap and cupped his face in your hands, “Let me make love you?”
Sherlock sat up and brushed his lips across your chin and cheeks, “Please.”
For all the dangerous, social landmines the two of you navigated, what you and Sherlock had was surprisingly uncomplicated. Your impeccable reputation and his unshakable honor afforded you both a lot of privacy and leeway. You also shared mutual acquaintances and occasionally saw each other at the same soirees, but neither of you made any overtures or public displays other than simple politeness. No flirting, no dancing, and absolutely no calls or gifts or letters. You were also friendly with his sister, Enola, and her close connection with Viscount Tewkesbury squashed any potential rumors and prevented tongues from wagging.
Besides, you were aware that Sherlock was married to his work. And he knew you wanted to remain independent for as long as possible. Yet, you also recognized the loneliness in each other.
And the desire for connection, too.
“You smell wonderful,” he observed gruffly between kisses. “Taste good, too. Like strawberries and hazelnuts.”
You grinned and dipped your tongue into his mouth, “You taste like beer. And cheddar cheese?”
“Such powers of observation, Duchess. You’ll put me out of a job.”
“Oh, I doubt that very much, Mr. Holmes.”
Sherlock’s chuckles morphed to contented groans the moment you wrapped your hand around him. You stroked him with the firm grip he preferred, with a twist of the wrist at the tip, and felt his hips lift slightly with every tug. Your front row seat to the beginnings of his undoing excited you, and when you took him inside, he moaned and gripped your waist tight.
This wasn’t the first time - far from it, in fact - but it still managed to stun you both. You took a moment before you allowed your head to fall back and your body to move. You used his shoulders for leverage as you built a steady rhythm. You weren’t sure how long you had. Didn’t know if he was staying the night or taking off right away. How long it would be until you saw him again? If your lady’s maid came searching…
“Slowly, Duchess. We have time.”
You met his eyes and frowned slightly, “Of course. I’m just--”
“I know,” he interjected quietly, reassuringly. “Me, too.”
Another kiss was all it took to distract you both. The water sloshed with every movement and threatened to spill onto the floor. You watched his pupils expand and his tongue dart out to lick wayward droplets from his lips. His nipples were pebbled, and the spread of his thighs beneath yours ensured you remained wide open and able to take him to the hilt. As you languidly sought your peak, he helped you along - slipped his hand beneath the water, right between your legs, and used his skilled fingers to stroke and pat at your clit.
Sherlock was massive and warm and beautiful beneath you. Plump mouth and flushed cheeks and curls even more riotous from the movement and heat. His shoulders rolled and his arms flexed as he maneuvered your legs around his waist and twined your arms over his shoulders. Once you were settled, he splayed one hand on the small of your back, planted the other on the bottom of the tub, and drove up and into you with considerable force. Still drawn-out, of course, but much sharper than you were capable of, and precisely what you needed.
You came undone embarrassingly fast. So fast, in fact, that you were dumbfounded into utter stillness. Sherlock was delighted, perhaps even charmed, because he laughed into your slack mouth and made a low, pleased sound deep in his chest. The spark in his eye was akin to the one you’d often seen when he’d unraveled a particularly difficult riddle, but it wasn’t smugness or male pride. He was satisfied simply because he’d satisfied you, and that was one of his most endearing and appealing qualities.
Sherlock hummed and nipped at your breast, “Another?”
You moaned against the crown of his head. Gripped the sides of the tub with both hands. Allowed him to give you more of what you both wanted, however he wanted, because it felt good.
Sherlock Holmes made you feel good, and even though you knew the two of you were well on your way to getting a bit too carried away, you had no desire to stop. You muffled the sounds of your pleasure in the crook of his neck, and each of his ragged exhales were interspersed with throaty growls and pointed thrusts that made you delirious.
Some time later - after you’d fed him, made love again, and put him to bed for the night in the guest room across from yours - you put on a nightgown, and slipped beneath your own sheets.
Sherlock would be gone before daybreak. You’d be up early, too, because you also had things to do. You’d enjoyed a rare night with him. You’d indulged in each other and made tentative plans to see each other once more before your time was taken up with early morning callers, afternoon teas, and balls that ran late into the night.
You were happy - even if weren’t sure how long your affair with Sherlock would last.
But then again, you supposed it was just another mystery yet to be solved.
#sherlock fanfic#sherlock x reader#sherlock x you#sherlock x fem!reader#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill x reader#wordywarriorwrites#mystery
356 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tongue-tied
A/N: In honor of @sillyrabbit81's milestone event. Congratulations on the milestone, hun 🥰 I kinda ended up combining two prompts I got for Mikey, because this accidentally just took a turn in that direction.
You can find the masterlist for the event here! (And my masterlist here)
Pairing: Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)
Prompt: Playful & Happy + Tied up // Smug & Sadistic + Dirty talk
Summary: There's this thing Mike has always wanted to try...
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering, oral (f receiving), light bondage/ use of restraints, dirty-talk, very very very very very very soft!Dom Mikey.
@geralts-yenn @fvckinghenrycavill @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @peaches1958 @keanureevesisbae I know I should be getting you guys 179CS's NYE, FixU23, UO3 and a whole bunch of other stuff... But I got distracted and just... have this little Mikey-drabble, instead.
The sentence ‘please, babe, I’ve always wanted to try it’ and a pair of bright blue puppy eyes. Apparently, that is all it takes for you to agree to let your boyfriend tie you to his bed. You’ve never realized just how big a fan you are of hiding until right this second, when Mike finishes tying your ankle to his bedframe and looks at you. The look of curiosity and excitement in his eyes is so incredibly endearing that you almost forget to ask him in all honesty how he got the restraints he used on you if he’s never done this before.
“Eighteenth birthday,” he says. As it turns out, his friends thought it would be really funny to have him unpack a bunch of silly gifts in front of his parents, but they forgot to take into account the ‘Mike factor’ – his words, not yours. You feel they should have known better than to think the gifts would embarrass him, though. Like… You’re talking about the guy who took you to his parents’ place for the holidays, and when his mom walked in on you two getting it on, he just looked her dead in the eye and said: “And this is why it’s a good idea to knock before stomping into your son’s room.” You were mortified, of course.
“Are you okay?” He asks as you’re on your way back from pushing that memory all the way down, because it sure as hell isn’t something you can use right now. You nod in reply to his question. You’re really just a little nervous, even though you know you can trust him. Mike straddles your hips, and you immediately try to raise your hands to touch him. Mike is grinning at you from above like an absolute idiot, which means you won’t be able to hold that scowl a lot longer. You can already feel the smile break through on your serious face.
“Don’t laugh at me, Mike.” You pout as you say it. “I just want to touch you.”
“But you can’t because you’re tied to my bed,” Mike singsongs, still smiling like a fool.
“You haven’t thought about what you’re going to do with me at all, have you?” You already know the answer; Mike is not a ‘planning’ kind of guy.
“I didn’t have to think about that,” he says. You don’t like the sound of that, if you’re being perfectly honest. “I can think about it now.” His kiss is soft, slow, and over as soon as you started to really enjoy it.
“I can do anything I want with you,” he continues as he kisses along your jaw to your ear, and down into your neck. Every time he comes across a spot that makes you gasp, he makes a point of lingering on it. Sucking, nibbling… And then he stops and sits up again.
“Or I can do absolutely nothing and just leave you laying here for a few hours.” For a moment, he tries very hard to look as if he’s actually considering it. “Nah, that would be a waste. I can hug you.” He wraps his arms around you as he says it, and just holds onto you like some sort of giant koala for a minute. You sigh, which is the only thing you can do to keep yourself from laughing.
He moves away to sit between your legs, still putting on a face like he’s thinking long and hard about all the possibilities. And maybe he actually is, who can tell.
“I could give you lots of kisses?” He falls forward, catching himself just in time before crushing you, and continues the path he was making down your neck. “Or I could lick you everywhere. I know you hate it when I lick you.”
“I don’t always hate it,” you say innocently. In reality, you only hate it when he jokingly licks your cheek in public. Or when he randomly licks kinda unusual spots on your body. Like your shoulder, completely out of nowhere?
Mike seems to completely ignore what you just said, and continues his musing about all the things he could do to you: “I could finally spend a decent amount of time with my favorite titties.”
Of course, he immediately comes into action on this one. He’s meticulous in his treatment, making sure to lick, suck and nibble on every inch of skin that can reasonably be considered part of your boobs, until way past the point where you’d normally be begging him to move further south. And by ‘begging him’ you mean ‘physically shoving him further down your body’. Which you can’t do now, because you’re tied to his fucking bed. No, today, your only option is to actually beg him, crying out as his tongue slowly draws the millionth circle around your swollen and sensitive nipple, and his fingers softly pinch the other.
“What? You want me to keep doing this? Ok!” You protest loudly, the noises that come out of your mouth are more sob than moan at this point, and you squirm, straining against the silky ties around your wrists and ankles.
“Mike, please, for fuck’s sake!” you cry out. “Please eat me out!” Apparently, begging works on him, because he makes his way down your body, dragging his tongue over your skin as he does – much to your dismay. At least Mike seems to be having the time of his life, so you’ll forgive the licking. This time.
“Whoa!” Mike sounds very surprised when he reaches his destination and runs his fingers through your folds. “You are super fucking wet, baby.”
“Ehh…” You can’t speak, you’re searching every remote corner of your brain for an excuse. Of course you don’t find one, because the only explanation you have for it is that, yeah, you’re absolutely turned on by what Mike is doing to you.
“You like this, don’t you?” Mike asks. He bites his lip, and looks up at you as he slips two fingers into your pussy. From the way he asks, you can tell he’s clearly expecting an answer, but you lose the ability to speak as soon as he curls his fingers inside you and finds just the right spot. The only thing you can do is whimper.
“See, baby, I don’t need your instructions,” he says as he moves his fingers exactly the way you want him to. His tongue hits your clit just the right way, and for a moment, you squirm and squeal – and then he disappears. Both his mouth and his hands leave you, and he leans over you again.
“Alright, baby, here’s what’s gonna happen.” Oh. Oh. That smug grin he’s flashing at you makes you weak, sends shivers down your spine in a way he’s never done before. It’s good to know that Mike gets cocky when he’s in charge, and that you like it. A lot.
“I’m gonna eat your sweet little pussy, and I’m gonna make you cum so hard you won’t even remember your own name, just mine.” You listen closely, failing every attempt to swallow down the lump in your throat. Part of you wants to yell at him to get to it, instead of talking all that talk, but you’re fairly sure you won’t be getting anything if you try that. You also know there’s a ‘but’ coming…
“However…” Yeah, that’s the same as ‘but’. “If you try to get involved in this, in any way – and I’m serious; One hint, one piece of advice, even a ‘right there’ – I’ll gag you. Are we clear?” Your cheeks are burning as you look down at those messy curls and the quirked eyebrow and the panty-dropping smirk between your legs that only widens when you finally speak: “Yes, Sir.”
#mike hellraiser fic#mike hellraiser#mike (hellraiser)#hellraiser mike#mike hellraiser x reader#mike hellraiser smut#mike x reader#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill characters#rabbitsmilestone23
132 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fuse
Prompt: Sleepy & Lazy, Daddy Kink from @myaimlessuniverse (x) Thank you so much for sending the prompt in. Sorry its taken so long.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader
Word Count: Approx. 600
Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, praise kink, probably some dd/lg vibes (I don't know! maybe!), p in v sex, Sy POV
Authors Note: Hi... Been a while... Probably not what you expected, but I swear I'm working on the Brotherhood, but I also have quite a few of these left so I thought I'd knock one out as a warm up for the smut I'm trying to write in the Brotherhood (the Brotherhood won't have daddy kink in it fyi) I'm not feeling Daddy kink like I used to and so I tried to write this a little different from what I had done before. Fingers crossed! As always I need to thank my amazing mate and reader @nashibirne , your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated. I also need to thank @augustsprincess for her reading and suggestions.
It was edited by me, on the fly, there will be errors
Dividers by me.
Masterlist
Celebration Masterlist
Sy tightens his jaw and he breathes out a ragged curse through his teeth as he slips past your slick, velvet folds and into your silken heat. He watches, enthralled by the utterly carnal vision of himself disappearing inside your impossibly tight core.
“Stop,” you gasp and he peers up at you perched precariously above him.
Your thighs tremble beneath his hands and it takes everything he has to stop himself from grabbing your hips and sliding your blossoming core all the way down his cock.
“You’re doing so well, babygirl,” he says, dropping his gaze back to the explicit view between your legs.
You’ve only taken the tip of him inside yourself and already he feels that tingle brewing in the base of his spine. He’s waited so long for you, longer than he ever thought he’d wait for anyone and he could barely stand it.
“Just a little more, I know you can do it.”
“Daddy,” you whimper. “You’re too big.”
He groans as sweat breaks out over his forehead. “Fuck, baby. You’re killin’ me here.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say, in a voice that quivers as much as your pouty bottom lip.
Sy’s heart breaks and he sits up drawing you to his chest. “Hush. You did so good for me baby. Daddy’s proud of you for tryin’.”
With the tip of his cock still trapped within your snug pussy, he rocks you slowly, murmuring his sweet praise in your ear as he strokes your hair. His thumb caresses your cheek and he smiles when he feels your soft lips against his pad. His cock pulses inside of you as your plush tongue curls around him and you begin to suck. It doesn’t take long for him to feel your quivering body relax against him. He closes his eyes, content as he feels you hum happily within his arms.
He doesn’t really notice at first, he thinks the soft warmth enveloping his cock must be his imagination. Then he hears you moan.
“Babygirl?” he murmurs, softly.
“Hmm?”
He looks at your pretty head resting on his shoulder. You look almost asleep, your eyes seem to have trouble focussing and you’re still sucking hard on his thumb. But then you sigh and nuzzle into his neck while you roll your hips and there’s no doubt about it, you’re slowly sinking lower onto his cock.
“That’s my girl,” he growls into your ear. “That my good fuckin’ girl.”
Sy clenches his jaw to keep himself in check, each moment you rock your hips and take more of him into you is the most exquisite torture he’s ever had.
“Am I doing good, Daddy?” you ask, hesitantly, dropping his thumb from your mouth.
He’s trembling as much as you were earlier. He has no idea how you can’t see how much you’re affecting him, that you can’t see that in this moment he’d give you everything, anything, just for a little bit more of your sweet pussy.
“So good baby,” he groans. “But don’t stop, Daddy needs more.”
He has to lay down, he has to see his thickness stretch you open. He holds your hips firmly, keeping you in place as he falls back to the bed. His mouth falls open as he watches the last of his cock vanish and your bodies completely fuse.
He can’t hold it back, that orgasm that threatened from the start tore through his spine and his hips bucked up from the mattress. His eyes force themselves shut as hot pulses surge through him and even though he can’t see anymore, the image of your bodies finally together is burned into his psyche.
#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fan fiction#captain syverson#captain sy#captain syverson fanfiction#captain syverson fanfic#captain sy x reader#captain sy fanfiction#syverson#captain syverson x reader#syverson x you#syverson x reader
936 notes
·
View notes
Text
Say It
Prompt: Embarrassed & Shy, Marshall, Dirty Talk from @nashibirne (x)
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Female Reader
Word Count: Approx. 600
Warnings: Smut, P in V sex, Dirty talk, corruption kink
Authors Note: As always I need to thank my amazing mates and readers @henryobsessed and @nashibirne , your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated.
Edited by me, there will be errors
Dividers by me.
Masterlist
Celebration Masterlist
Nothing in the world turned Marshall on more than watching a demure, dignified, pure, lady turn into a depraved, lustful, writhing, woman. The need to be the impetus that led to your corruption was what had led him to this moment and he pauses to take it all in.
You are more beautiful to him in this moment than ever before; naked and open, your body spread out across his bed, your smell and excitement seeping into his sheets. He wishes he could take a picture to capture this moment forever.
He doesn’t dare though, not yet anyway. One day you will let him, he’ll take baby steps. Having you completely bare and the lights on had taken a lot of finesse and being so close to finally having you, he was not about to mess this up by going too far too quickly.
Besides, he thinks as he leans over your body and holds his weight over you with an outstretched arm, there is something he wants more than a picture.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he says.
You avert your gaze from his and his cock throbs. God, he loves watching you squirm, loves watching you as your timidness and desire war for supremacy in your mind.
“I want…” you lick your lips, close your eyes and blurt out, “you to have sex with me.”
Marshall shakes his head. “No, baby, you don’t want to have sex.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “I don’t?”
“No,” Marshall continues with a smirk, “you don’t want me to have sex with you. You want me to fuck you.”
“Oh God!” you cry, covering your face with your hands.
Cute, Marshall thinks, she’s so fucking cute.
“Say it,” he encourages.
He lowers himself until the coarse curls on his chest caress the sensitive and pebbled skin of your nipples. His fingers skim up the inside of your thigh, his touch leaving a wake of tight, tingling, goosebumped flesh.
“Say, ‘Walter, I want you to fuck me,’” he breathes into your ear, “Say, ‘I want you to fuck me until I scream.’”
Fingers dance over your slit, his thumb slides between your swollen lips to the slick and warm hidden skin of your pussy.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart.”
You groan and Marshall grins. Your skin burns with embarrassment but also arousal.
“I can’t,” you practically sob.
Your core pulses, clutching at nothing, your desperation increasing as the roughened pad of Marshall’s thumb finds your clit. You hear a low deep moan and are shocked to realise it is coming from you.
Your thighs start to tremble as Marshall rolls your clit beneath his thumb. You’re gasping, each breath hitching in your throat as you teeter on the edge. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you grab hold in desperation. More, you need more.
She’s so close.
Marshall presses the pulsing and leaking head of his cock against your pussy. The soft heat of you is so tempting, he almost gives in.
Frustrated, he growls into your ear, “Tell me every dirty desire you have. Tell me every fucked up, filthy little fantasy that you dream about and I’ll make it a reality. All you have to do is say it.”
Your voice is so hoarse, you don’t recognise it as you finally relent. “Fuck me! Just fuck me, Walter.”
“Good girl,” Marshall praises gently, kissing your cheek. He sinks inside you, groaning with relief as your tight, silky walls envelop him. “Good fucking girl.”
#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fan fiction#walter marshall fic#walter marshall fanfiction#walter marshall#walter marshall x reader#walter marshall x you#night hunter
755 notes
·
View notes
Text
Curious
Prompt: Possessive & Rough, Mutual Masturbation from @martha-oi (x) Thank you!
Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader
Word Count: Approx. 3.1k
Warnings: Smut, masturbation (m & f), fingering, thigh riding, pearl necklace... or pearl jewellery, I don't know, it is what it is, descriptions of body fluids, rough kissing and touching.
Authors Note: As always I need to thank my amazing mate and reader @nashibirne , your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated.
If this feels a bit rushed, thats because it is. I'm supposed to keep these around 500 words, but you know... Its Sy, I love him. I'm sorry, I hope its enjoyable anyway.
I'm sorry, but I barely had time to read over it, it was edited by me, on the fly there will be errors
Dividers by me.
Masterlist
Celebration Masterlist
The normally quiet Camp was full of men shouting insults, off-key singing and dirty r’n’b lyrics. Part of you wanted to join them, but you thought it wouldn’t be appropriate. Not only because you were the only woman on base, it was also because you were a journalist, and you knew that despite having access to all areas of the base and free reign to follow the team on any and all operations, in the end, you weren’t one of them.
Still, you are curious, it is in your nature. So you sneak down the hall and peek into the raucous room. The sight that greets you makes you smile. The men are dancing like no one was watching, a bottle of something being passed between them, glow sticks stuck in helmets or held in their hands like microphones that two or three of them sang into.
You watch a few moments, taking note of the differences in the faces and body language. You had been embedded with them for a month, seen them laughing and joking, but this is the first moment that you truly saw no lines of worry on their faces and no tightness in their shoulders.
A small glimmer of jealousy ripples through you. It isn’t that you resented the guys having a good time and relieving some stress, it is more the fact that you had no such outlet. You are the outsider here, the ODA was a tight unit that you would never be a part of. However, you would be leaving in a few days, back to the comforts of home, while these men would still be here for months, you know you shouldn’t begrudge them these rare moments of levity.
Sighing, you back away, leaving the men to their fun. You barely take three steps and you walk into what feels like a brick wall.
Two large and strong hands gripped your shoulders and stopped you from falling on your face. They turn you around quickly and you’re face to face with the Captain.
He stares into your eyes, studying you and you can almost see the calculations and assumptions he’s making. His fingers dig into the flesh of your upper arms, his grip is firm but not tight, still you don’t think you would be able to pull away if he didn’t allow you to.
Without breaking eye contact, he nods in the direction of the room. “You joinin’ the party?”
You shake your head. “I was just leaving.”
He lets you go. “Good. My guys need to blow off some steam. Can’t do that when they’re worried ‘bout slipping up and sayin’ shit that’ll end up splashed all over the papers.”
You roll your eyes.
He lets out a grunt that is half amused and half annoyed. “You better get outta here ‘fore they notice you.”
“Have you forgotten that I don’t answer to you?”
“Have you forgotten that I don’t give a shit?”
You open your mouth to retort but he gives you a curt nod and turns, swaggering down the hallway like he was John Wayne or something. You watch him walk away and not for the first take a moment to enjoy the view. He may be a bit of a prick to you sometimes, but the sight of his tight ass and thick thighs straining his camo pants and broad shoulders stretching his t-shirt, sure make forgiving him a hell of a lot easier.
Abruptly, he pauses at the door to his room and looks over his shoulder at you. “You comin’ or what?”
Heat floods your cheeks as you see him smirk at catching you staring at him. It’s also not the first time you’ve been caught checking him out. To be fair though, you’re fairly certain you’ve seen his eyes linger a little too long on your breasts before. You never called him out on it though, in fact, you kind of liked it.
You lift your chin and clear your throat before asking, “Where we going?”
His smirk grows. “To blow off some steam of our own.” He doesn’t wait for a reply before he goes into his room.
“Cocky bastard,” you mutter. You follow him, your curiosity getting the better of you once again.
He’s standing next to his bed, a similar bottle to the one the men had in one hand and two glass tumblers in the other.
“Close the door,” he says, that smug grin still on his face. He places both glasses on his desk and starts to pour.
You warily close the door and your skin prickles and a restlessness starts to build in your joints. You look around the room, trying to appear calm so Sy doesn’t notice your agitation.
“Is this how you normally blow off steam?” you ask. “Drinking alone?”
“Honest answer?” he asks, handing you a glass.
You raise your eyebrow at the amount he poured. Jesus that much would knock you on the floor. He sits on his bed, backing himself into a corner so his back leans against the wall and takes a sip of his drink.
“Off the record?”
You roll your eyes and follow him to his bed, mirroring his position on the opposite end and raise the glass to your lips.
“I usually drink with the guys for a bit then come in here and jerk off,” he says so deadpan that you gasp, causing you to inhale a not too insignificant amount of liquor.
You cough hard, tears coming to your eyes as you try and catch your breath. Sy’s large hand thumps you between your shoulder blades, then starts to rub your back.
“Shit, for a minute there I thought you were being serious,” you rasp out when it doesn’t feel like every breath burns your trachea.
“What makes you think I’m not?” he asks just as seriously as before and just as deadpan.
He’s close enough that you can feel his warm breath on your cheek. The hand that was on your back is now on your shoulder, the tips of his fingers caressing the back of your neck.
You turn to look at him to gauge his seriousness. His blue eyes sparkle with their usual amount of mischief, but instead of the accompanying grin, the tip of his tongue peeks out from between his lips. It disappears into his mouth followed swiftly by his lower lip which he sucks on briefly then he drags his teeth over it before it returns to its rightful position.
You turn away quickly, your breath comes in hard. God, what would that look like? It’s not like you hadn’t been curious. You’d never seen a man do that before, not in real life anyway.
Equally as hard as your breath is the hand that wraps itself around the nape of your neck, the fingers working deep into the muscles.
“I have to go,” you say.
You stand quickly. Too quickly. The ground spins around you as waver and you throw an arm out to steady yourself with Sy’s shoulder.
He stands with you, his hands firmly on your waist as he draws you close.
“You don’t have to go anywhere,” he says roughly. He lifts your chin making you look into his eyes that burned with a fire that rivalled the one growing between your legs. “Stay here. With me. No one’ll notice, not tonight.”
He was so close, his warm breath tickles your lips and smells like mint and alcohol. You inhale deeply through your nose and smell soap, barely a trace of the usual hint of sweat. You study his features, something is different, there’s none of the usual traces of dirt or sand. You look down at his shirt, it’s clean.
Holy shit.
“You planned this?” you say. It’s part question, part accusation.
For the first time this evening he hesitates, his eyes dart away and licks at his lips.
“So what if I did?” he says eventually, bringing his gaze back to yours.
“I’d say you were one sneaky and presumptive bastard.”
“Sugar, you say the sweetest things,” he chuckles.
Scowling, you try to look away but he holds your jaw firm and walks you backwards until you hit the wall.
“Don’t fuck with me li’l girl,” Sy says in a voice as rough and jagged as gravel. “I’ve seen you watchin’ me, eye-fucking me, pressing my fucking buttons. You knew what was gonna happen when you walked in that door tonight, don’t pretend otherwise.”
“Maybe I just like riling you up,” you say, pushing your hips into his. “Maybe I like knowing that when you blow off steam, you’re thinking of me.”
“Now who’s bein’ presumptive?” Sy grins.
“I’m not wrong though. Am I?” It’s a stab in the dark really, but as you slowly sway your hips, and brush against the front of his pants Sy clenches his jaw.
“Not one bit,” he admits through his gritted teeth.
“Show me then,” you say.
Sy’s brows draw together and he leans his head back. “Show you what?”
You reach between Sy’s legs, palming him gently until you find him. You cage his cock with your fingers and press against his semi-rigid length with the heel of your hand.
“Show me how you blow off steam, Sy.”
“You fucking with me?” he asks, cocking his head.
You shake your head. “Not one bit.”
“You wanna watch me jerk off?”
“Uh huh. You’ve made me curious.” You press your hand against him again and you grin when you feel how much quickly he’s thickening in his pants. “Seems you like that idea too.”
He groans and leans into you, rubbing himself against your hand. Then your eyes widen as he reaches between your legs. Your breath leaves your lungs in a rush as his palm presses directly over your clit.
“I was thinkin’ more along the lines of us blowin’ off steam together,” he says, resting his forehead against yours, your noses touching, your lips a hair's breadth away from his.
“We can,” you say softly, your lips so close to his that your lower brushes the whiskers on his chin, “I’ll let you watch me, if I can watch you.”
Sy’s chest works hard as he thinks it over. He takes half a step back and runs his eyes over you, then closes the distance again.
“Okay,” he says, “but I want to see everythin’, no clothes on, no hiding.”
You slip out from between Sy and the wall. He says nothing, but he follows you as you back away until your legs hit the edge of his bed. Although your heart is working overtime and you can feel its pulse everywhere, its strongest between your legs. You want this, want to see the man in front of you on equal footing with you for once. No more of this power play between you, he’d be as vulnerable as you are.
Without overthinking it, you lift your shirt over your head and stare at Sy as you reach behind your back and unclasp your bra.
Sy curses and starts to toe off his boots while pulling his shirt off. It was a race to the finish, and it wasn’t long until you’re both standing naked in front of each other. Sy’s eyes are wild as he takes you all in and his hands work into fists at his sides. You take the time to look at him too from the vast expanse of his chest and the thickness of his shoulders and arm to the way his body tapers to his waist. Your cheeks burn as your gaze drop lower and see his cock, thick, smooth and so fucking hard.
Sy moves, taking your jaw in his hand he kisses you, his lips hard against yours. His arm works its way around your back, drawing your body close to his while his hand grabs a handful of your ass.
You turn, repositioning the both of you until Sy is back up to the edge of the bed and you keep leaning into him until he takes the hint and sits, pulling you down with him until you’re sitting astride one of his thighs. He takes you with him as he climbs onto the bed. Your tight and pebbled nipples graze his chest and your pussy drags over his thigh as he gets comfortable and rests his back against the wall. The feel of his hard muscle and sparsely haired skin against the hot and wet skin between your legs makes you moan.
His mouth is on yours again. His lips work against yours, nipping, licking and sucking, while his hand works its way down your neck to your breasts. He groans and digs his fingers into the soft flesh, his palm rubbing and massaging.
You push against his shoulder that is all bulky muscle, and pull away from his kiss. His eyes are wild and hungry as he moves to follow your lips.
“No,” you say, lifting your head away from his advances.
He growls and the arm around your waist tightens, his fingers are bruisingly deep into your hip.
“Show me,” you whisper.
Taking his hand off your chest, you place it around his cock. Then you lean back, resting your weight on outstretched arms behind you. You rock your hips slowly, dragging your throbbing and wet pussy over his thigh, grinding your clit against him..
“Oh Jesus,” he groans, “fuck that’s… Oh fuck.”
His eyes are feral as he looks over your stretched body like he can’t decide where to look. His hand starts to move while he rakes you, his fist stroking up and down the length of his cock. Part of you longed to touch it, to feel the skin that looked so soft while it slides over the hard, thick core beneath.
But watching him touch himself is enthralling. He is brutal with himself, his fist slapping hard against his body on the downstroke and his hand chokingly tight on the upstroke. His voice rumbles in his throat, sounding almost like a constant purr.
His free hand is on your ass again, helping you along as you rub yourself against his thigh. You’re so wet, your arousal glistens on his leg and you can hear the wet sounds of your pussy as you slide over him. Your thighs tighten around him as they start to shake, you’re not going to last much longer, the feel and sight of him is just too good after all this time.
“Come ‘ere,” he says hoarsely, wrapping an arm around you until your body is flush with his.
Your knee brushes against his sack and he lets go of his cock a moment to clasp your thigh drawing you close until your thigh is almost crushing him. His hand reaches for your nape and pulls your panting mouth down to his, and taking advantage of your parted lips he slips his tongue between them to stroke, massage and explore.
His thigh falls away and you whimper at the loss until you feel his palm cupping you. The roughened texture of his hand feels even better and your arms encircle his neck as you kiss him back and slide your tongue over his.
“Oh fuck,” you cry as one of his thick fingers slips inside you and immediately curls.
The pressure feels so good that you cover his hand with yours and push another of his fingers inside you before you tighten your legs until you trap his hand and roll your hips over it.
“That’s it, baby,” Sy encourages, “Use me. Make that tight li’l pussy come all over my hand.”
You shake, your whole body trembles and tightens as you breathe hard into Sy’s mouth. His pupils are so big, his eyes look as dark as the ocean at night as he stares up at you. His free hand moves to your chest, seeking out your nipple and rolls it between his fingers. You shiver at the feeling and your nerves are on fire as it moves through your body and slams into your clit.
“Harder,” you gasp.
Sy takes your tight little bud and pinches, before giving it a jerking twist. You bite down on his lip as your body shudders and your pussy starts to throbs sending pulses of heat ripping through your body.
“Fuck yeah,” Sy growls as he watches you cum, hardly feeling your teeth in his flesh.
He waits for your body to go lax before he moves and lays you on your back. He grabs his cock again and resumes his brutal beating as he holds himself over you, watching you bathe in the afterglow.
“Where do ya want it?” he asks in a voice that’s thick and guttural.
You shake your head. “Wherever you want,” you say, breathlessly. “My face. My tits. My cunt. Anywhere. Everywhere.”
Sy lets out a string of curses, his hand moving so quickly it’s nothing but a blur. You lift your knee until it presses against his balls again. His eyes go wide and raising himself to his knees he frees his hand to hold you to him.
“Fuck!” he bellows, his face going red as the first hot jet of his release splashes over your neck and chin.
He grins, and half chuckles as his body jerks with each stuttering release as he paints your body with white ribbons. He squeezes himself, forcing the last of his cum to leak out slowly over your pussy.
He stares at you, his face still split into such a wide smile, that it makes you giggle too. He chuckles freely as he reaches between your legs and using his thumb, spreads his cum over your pussy.
“Stop that,” you laugh as he brushes your still sensitive clit.
“Shit baby, look so fuckin’ pretty right now.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Uh huh. How about cleaning me up?”
He leans over and grabs a small hand towel from the footlocker of his bed and starting at your chin, he carefully wipes up.
When he’s done, he cups your cheek and kisses you. It’s nothing like the kisses he’d given you up until this point. It was soft, gentle, almost loving.
When he pulls away he looks at you expectantly, like you’re supposed to say something, but you’re at a loss as to what he wants. He doesn’t seem to mind though because he lowers his head and kisses you again.
You wait for him to break the kiss again and throw your legs over the edge of the bed.
“I should go,” you say.
Sy’s hand grips your shoulder and pulls you back down. “Stay. Sleep here.”
You start to protest but Sy is suddenly on top of you, silencing your objections with a deep, hard kiss.
“Stay,” he says and you stiffen at the command in his voice.
He must have felt your reaction because his next word is softer and more of a plea.
“Please.”
#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fan fiction#captain syverson#captain sy#captain syverson fanfiction#captain syverson fanfic#captain sy x reader#captain sy fanfiction#syverson#captain syverson x reader#syverson x you#syverson x reader
979 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dangle the Carrot
Prompt: Smug and Sadistic, Virginity from @munstysmind (x) Thank you!
Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader
Word Count: Approx. 3.5k
Warnings: Smut, DUBIOUS CONSENT/ NON CONSENT, RELUCTANT READER, Coercion, p in v sex, fingering, discussion of body fluids, possessive August.
Authors Note: As always I need to thank my amazing mates and readers @nashibirne , and @henryobsessed your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated.
I had every intention of following the prompt, but as I wrote this is what came out. Walker is definitely smug, but probably not as sadistic as you would think. I hope you enjoy it.
Edited by me, there will be errors
Dividers by me.
Masterlist
Celebration Masterlist
You’re sitting in the safe house sipping on your morning coffee, dressed in a simple knee length summer dress that is fashionable in the local area, going over new intelligence on your latest asset.
You’re going to have to meet him again, he is holding back information, you’re sure of it. The chatter had been building to a crescendo, someone is planning something and you’re sure the asset knows more than he’s letting on.
The assets' pale balding head peers back at you from the photograph that had been taken of him way back before you started to build a relationship with him. He creeps you out, well over 20 years older than you, he looks at you like he’s undressing you every time you meet. You feel like he strings you along with little tidbits just to keep you coming back and you’re starting to think he’s a dead end.
“Staring at his picture won’t make him talk.”
You jump, startled by Special Agent Walker's appearance. Dressed as he always is in a plain muted suit, he has a mug of coffee (you assume) in his hand and he sits next to you, plucking the file from your hands and opening it on the dining table in front of you.
“Any suggestions?” you ask.
“Possibly,” Walker says, the corner of his whiskered mouth lifting with a knowing smirk.
You purse your lips. Walker always looks like he knows something you don’t, you’re about to ask him what it is when he continues.
“I’ve been told to hurry you along. Langley believes he has information about a high value target and our window of opportunity is closing swiftly.”
Huffing with disgust you say, “I’ve done everything I can besides take my clothes off to get him to give up more information than we already know. I think he knows nothing. I think he’s full of shit.”
Walker shakes his head, “Langley disagrees. They think he might be involved in some way and is trying to avoid implicating himself.”
“I’ve told him we will look the other way on the shit he’s into if he can lead us to the target, or at least give us something we don’t already know.” You shrug and lean back into your chair, waving your hand over the file. “Like I said, I’ve given him every assurance, dangled every carrot, and he gives me nothing. I’m at a loss.”
Walker hums, turning a page, “Maybe it's time to stop dangling the carrot and let him have it.”
Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
Walker doesn’t answer immediately. He finishes reading, then closes the file smoothly. He turns in his chair so he’s facing you and his knee brushes against your thigh, while he takes a moment to assess you.
“You said you’ve tried everything except taking your clothes off,” he says, the smirk reappearing on his lips.
“That’s not happening,” you say dismissively, but your cheeks burn at his suggestion.
Walker nods, a faux frown plays on his lips. “Did you read the brief?”
“Only a million times.”
Walker makes a gesture towards the folder on the table. “The initial report, second page, about a third of the way down.”
Sighing, you drag the file back in front of you and flip it open. Walker’s knee presses against your thigh as he puts his arm around the back of your chair and leans in to read over your shoulder.
“There,” he says.
You start to read, impatiently, “The subject is known for many clandestine relationships outside of his marriage. He tends to favour women who…” you trail off as you realise the description of his type of woman is basically a description of you. You keep reading in silence.
…At least one of his former lovers was a British Agent and seeing as the subject was prone to “pillow talk”, it had proved an effective way to gather intelligence…
“Miss that part in your millions of readings did you?” Walker says in your ear. “Why do you think you were put on this case, hmm?”
The arm that rests on the back of the chair now rests on your shoulder and he starts to stroke your neck. His other hand rests on your knee, his fingers edge beneath the hem of your dress, inching their way up your thigh.
You can barely breathe, the realisation dawning on you that he’s right. You thought you were being rewarded for good work with lower level assets. Embarrassment creeps in, the old imposter syndrome that you had convinced yourself wasn’t an issue begins to rear its ugly head.
“I can’t,” you whisper.
Walker moves closer, his breath is warm on your neck, his fingers have worked themselves halfway up the inside of your thigh and they pause to caress your sensitive delicate skin.
“You can,” he whispers back, “I know what’s stopping you. Why do you think I was put on this case?”
Your chin trembles and you try to swallow down the lump rising in your throat. “This was the plan the whole time?”
“A contingency that Langley has decided to implement to hurry things along.”
Shaking your head, you flick his hand away from your thigh. “I can turn him without having sex with him. Give me a few more days.”
Walker grabs your jaw, his thumb and fingers dig painfully into your cheeks and he makes you look at him. His eyes are blazing with lustful impatience. He’s been waiting for this you realise, he’s been waiting for you to fail, waiting for the go ahead to take you.
“You don’t have a few days, princess. You have tonight,” Walker says in a gravelly and thick tone that doesn’t hold so much as an inch of empathy. “You have a choice. You can open your legs for me like a good girl and I’ll make your first time as pleasant as possible and believe me, I can make it very pleasurable. Or, you can let an ugly, skinny, limp dicked asshole, that doesn’t even know your real name, uselessly pound your sweet, tight, virgin pussy until his cum dribbles into your ruined little hole.”
“And if I refuse both options?” Your voice quivers as you ask the question because deep down you already know the answer.
“You’ll be out. A burn notice will be issued within the next hour.”
Icy fear blooms in your chest and your blood runs cold through your veins. Burn notice. Not only will you be out of the agency, but no self respecting private security firm would take you either. The whole industry would be closed to you. Everything you worked for would be taken from you within the hour.
Closing your eyes, you coldly try to rationalise the situation, weighing up the pros and cons.
What is virginity anyway? Your hymen was well and truly worn away by now. You’ve had a wide selection of toys inside you. A couple of guys had fingered you in college and it wasn’t as though you were saving yourself for marriage or anything. Your lack of sexual experience is due to not having the inclination to find a partner who you wanted to sleep with rather than any real moral objection.
There would be worse men to sleep with than Walker. He is attractive, even if he’s normally a little standoffish. He boasts about making it feel pleasurable doesn’t seem to be without merit; you can’t deny that his fingers which are circling their way up your inner thigh again do feel nice.
You open your eyes slowly and determinedly set your jaw. You lick your lips and take a breath to give your tepid consent, but nothing comes out.
Walker seems to understand though, his hand holding your jaw softens and slides down to your neck. He uses his grip to draw you close enough to brush his lips over yours.
Whiskers prickle against your chin and warm, silky lips stroke yours, capturing first your lower lip then your top in a gentle nip.
“Relax,” he whispers against your mouth. His breath heats your lips and smells of mint and coffee.
As he resumes his kiss, a light tickling sensation begins on your inner thigh, picking up where it had left off. Soft circling fingers draw an invisible spiral on your sensitive skin as it inches its way towards the apex of your thighs. It feels nice, gentle and tender, and against your will, your skin tingles with warm anticipation.
Hot velvety strokes of his tongue tease your lips, probing softly where they meet, silently urging you to open. He’s patient, easing back before trying again, all the while his thumb strokes your throat and fingers caress higher and higher up your thigh.
Maybe it is primal instinct, or perhaps you simply surrender, but you part your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth with a hum of approval. He strokes, massages, and sucks, encouraging you to reciprocate, but you can’t. While his touch is seductive, your heart beats faster and your body warms as your body begins to throb, you feel detached. It’s like he’s doing things to you and your body reacts but your mind is somewhere else recording your involuntary, mechanical reactions.
The ghosting circular caresses get larger, reaching high enough for a knuckle to brush over your panties. Dispassionate curiosity keeps you unmoving as his hand sweeps over your thigh again, this time a finger traces the edge of your panties, following its curve before resuming its path.
He brushes over your panties again, floating over your slit and grazing your clit. A deep thrum begins between your legs and vibrates hotly through your nerves, and settles in your breasts making your nipples ache as they grow tight and harden.
Your detachment shatters. You break his kiss with a cry and force your knees together, trapping his hand between your thighs and halting his advance.
“You were doing so well, princess,” Walker says, with a thicker and less gentle voice than before.
You scowl at him as he tries to pry your knees apart with his free hand. It’s not anger that makes you protest; it's the fear that grips your heart with its icy fingers as you see the burning lust in his eyes. He isn’t just doing this for the mission, he’s doing this because he wants to and somehow that is so much worse.
You try to stand and run, but he’s too quick for you. He captures your wrists in one hand and roughly uses his body to get behind you. He thrusts his groin against your ass, and bends you over the table, trapping you like a pinned butterfly by your hands and his chest pressing against your back.
“Be a good girl and don’t fight it, because I’ll take you the hard way if I have to,” he growls in your ear in a tone that suggests he might enjoy that even more.
“Please,” you rasp weakly. “Please don’t…”
A rough hand bunches your dress up to your hips then rubs over the soft flesh of your thighs. You try to close your legs but he inches his feet between yours and forces them apart. He licks the shell of your ear before taking your earlobe into his mouth and sucks. Heat flows through your veins again, your nerves electrify while you twist and fight against his iron-like grip and heavy weight.
“Are you getting wet for me, princess?” he asks, mockingly rubbing himself against your ass.
“No!” you protest louder and with more conviction, hoping the forcefulness of your response covers for your lie because despite your fear, and you are afraid, your body is undoubtedly aroused and growing more so with every passing second.
“No?” Walker asks. “Are you sure?”
Embarrassment makes you drop your head to the table with a feeble whimper. Why is it that his smug mocking makes you even more aroused? You’re hot and slick beneath your panties and everytime Walker grinds himself against your ass, the fabric of the gusset clings to your sticky lips.
“Are you sure? I think I should check,” he says as his fingers hook the edge of your panties and peels them away slowly.
Walker’s fingers easily slide over your pussy. You bite the inside of your cheek to try and stop the moan that hurtles up your throat. You try to fight against him, but he’s got you trapped as his fingers stroke and probe between your legs.
“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet,” he mutters throatily, as though he’s talking to himself. Sounding almost amazed, he adds, “You like this.”
Humiliated, you let out a soft cry. You do like it. You like the way he’s touching you even better now than when he first started. His weight pinning you to the table is strangely comforting, and knowing you can’t fight him off is embarrassingly arousing.
He spreads you open and a finger teases your entrance. You hold your breath, your whole body clenches anticipating pain. But he’s gentle as he slips a finger easily inside you and lets out a hard amused breath into your ear and you can imagine the smug grin on his face.
You squeeze your eyes shut as he slides his finger back and forth, each time at a new angle as if he is searching for something. He moans softly as he kisses your neck, sucking and biting hard, such a contrast to how gently his finger explores.
He adds a second finger, you cry out again as he stretches you and you clamp down hard as if you could push him out. He groans in response, his voice erotically guttural, powerful and raw as he growls out, “Your pussy is so fucking tight. So fucking hot.”
His fingers curl and you gasp. It already felt so good, but now there is a pleasant pressure building deep in your gut. Your core throbs and you tighten around him even more and your eyes widen in horror as you realise what is happening.
“No, no, no,” you protest as your thighs begin to shake.
Tears well in your eyes as your body grows incredibly taut and torrid heat gathers between your legs. You pull on the hand holding your wrists and manage to get one free. You cover your mouth, trying to suppress your cries as your body surrenders to searing heaves of euphoric release that leave your skin tingling and your muscles quivering.
You’re still high, heady and weak from your orgasm as Walker pulls your panties down your thighs. Somewhere in your mind you think you should fight him because you know what's coming next, but your body feels so good that you also crave more. So much so that when Walker takes your hips and turns you before snaking an arm around your waist, you docilely let him lift you onto the table and stand between your bare legs.
Heavy lidded you watch him quickly undo his belt, his movements are a frantic indication of his desire. When he lifts his eyes as his pants drop to the floor your breath catches in your throat. Untamed and bestial lust twists his features, curling his lip and narrowing his cobalt stare.
“Please,” you murmur, the words spilling from your lips without any understanding of what you’re begging for.
Walker bares his teeth with a savage grin and growl, and reaches between his legs. He’s soft and blunt as he drags himself over you, coating the head of his cock in your slick arousal. Your mouth opens and you take a stuttering breath as he positions himself at your core. His arm draws your body close to him as he slowly pushes into you, his eyes dark and wild.
Pressure like you’ve never known makes your core spasm and strain and though you put a hand to his chest to try to slow him down, he doesn’t stop his unyielding intrusion. You think you should want to scream, cry, or at least protest, but your legs wrap around him, pulling him deeper until your bodies meet.
Twin moans float as they hang in the air as you both still. His breath saws in his throat as your every exhale comes out with a soft whimper. No toy ever stretched you like this and you look down to see your slit bloom and spread around his thick cock.
“Oh God,” you cry as your head lolls and falls back.
Fingers slip between your lips and pull on your teeth until your eyes meet Walkers. He watches slack-jawed and panting as your mouth closes over his intrusive fingers and the humiliating taste of your orgasm stings your tongue.
With a growl he removes his fingers and covers your mouth with his, forcing his tongue into your mouth and sucking on yours as if to get a taste for himself. He grazes his whiskers over you, making your skin prickle. Your hand moves to his wrist and slides down his forearm and the powerful muscles dancing beneath his hairy skin feel so good you tighten your grip to feel then contract and flex.
He moves.
With fluid and deliberate rolls of his hips, he grinds against you. His mouth still covers yours and you desperately try to breathe through your nose and not choke on the scream that is poised at the back of your throat. His body moves with erotic grace, confusing your mind with every circling thrust. It shouldn’t feel so good, you don’t want this.
Oh but you do. You so do.
The familiar heat gathers between your legs and your hips, moving with him, chasing him, urging him to move faster, to give you what you need to fall into bliss again. You’re not sure when you went from passive recipient to enthusiastically compliant, but you’re definitely a desperately willing participant now.
Walker leaves your lips and kisses down your throat, groaning as he sucks bruisingly hard on your skin. He works his way to your ear, his cheeks burn your skin as your skin prickles and breaks into sweat.
“Your pussy is too good to waste on another man,” Walker groans. “You’re mine now.”
It takes you a moment to register his words, but when they sink in, irrationally your heart soars.
“All fucking mine,” he growls.
The heat of his breath as he rasps out the words in his harsh and rugged baritone send you over the edge. You clasp and grab at him, trying to hold on as your body shakes and shudders and you bask in that moment where everything all falls away and there's nothing except the surging tides of hot euphoria.
“Fuck,” he snarls, when you open your eyes.
He grabs your ass with one hand and hooks his other arm under your knee, spreading you wide open. He’s no longer grinding, now he’s pumping hard watching himself move in and out of your swollen and sodden core.
He cups the back of your head, drawing your mouth close enough to kiss as he chases his end. His rhythmic frantic thrusts suddenly stop as he lifts his head with a long groan and holds himself deep within you. You inhale a rough breath as he imperceptibly thickens and throbs, shocked that you can actually feel each pulse of his release as it rushes up his cock.
With a final sigh, he drops his head, resting against your lips. You kiss him there softly and your lips sting with the taste of his humid skin as sweat runs down his forehead and into your mouth. It should disgust you, but instead of pulling away you kiss him again before lowering your head and nuzzling into his neck.
You both stay there for a minute while you catch your breath and try to process what happened. You don’t know what to think, it all happened so fast, and feels so confusing. Part of you knows you should be furious, but somehow you can’t seem to muster the anger at the violation when it felt so good.
His softening cock starts to slip from your core. When it falls you feel unbelievably wet between your legs. He came inside you, you hadn’t even thought about it. A small shiver tickles at your spine. Though your core aches, the thought of his cum leaking from you was so erotic that you almost want to reach between you legs and feel it as it slowly flows from deep inside you.
Walker raises his head, his expression as calm as you’ve ever seen and his normally turbulent eyes seem serene. The corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s trying to smile, not smirk or sneer, but genuinely smile.
“I mean it,” he says, pushing errant hairs tenderly off your face. “You’re not fucking him. I’ll find another way to get what we need.”
From the look of grim determination that settles in his jaw, you have no doubts about his seriousness.
“Do I get a say at all?” you ask, your voice still trembling.
“No.”
#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fan fiction#august walker#august walker fanfiction#august walker fic#mission impossible#mission impossible fallout#august walker x you#august walker fanfic#august walker x reader#august walker x female reader
589 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love Sick
Prompt: Slow & Romantic, Medical Play from @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden (x) Thank you!
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Female Reader
Word Count: Approx. 2.9k
Warnings: Smut, hand job, oral sex (m receiving), mentions of body fluids, made up medical treatments.
Authors Note: As always I need to thank my amazing mates and readers @nashibirne , @amberangel112 and @henryobsessed your thoughtful and honest comments (and special knowledge 🤣) are always appreciated.
I found this prompt particularly tricky as medical play isn't a kink I'm overly familiar with, but in the end I'm pretty happy with how it turned out and I hope you enjoy it.
I'm sorry, but I barely had time to read over it, it was edited by me, on the fly there will be errors
Dividers by me.
Masterlist
Celebration Masterlist
There is a knock on the door to your small hut. Your hands are busy pouring a heavy pot of freshly prepared Eucalyptus oil through a cheesecloth strainer, so you call out to the visitor.
“Come in.”
You hope it's a customer, you could do with the money, but immediately curse yourself. You love being a healer, but you hate that you often have to rely on the misfortune of others. Maybe it will be a young woman, happy to be pregnant and they’ll ask you for assistance to deliver the baby when the time comes.
You hear the door open and close. Still pouring the freshy made oil, you glance at the door and very nearly lose the preparation that took you over six hours to make.
“Geralt,” you whisper.
His brows raise slightly in surprise as he greets you by name in a low rumble that you hadn’t heard in nearly two years.
You’re frozen by the shock of seeing the Witcher again and by the uncertainty of how to react to his unexpected appearance at your door. You stare at each other, he seems as unable to decide what to do as you are.
Geralt's brows raise higher and he says your name again, this time with urgency and while taking long strides to your side.
You turn back to your work and curse. In your bewilderment, you haven’t stopped pouring and oil is leaking over the sides of the cheese cloth and onto your table and apron.
Geralt takes the pot out of your hands and you start to mop up the spill. It doesn’t look like you lost too much and you sigh with relief. When you’ve wiped up as much as you can, you try to take your apron off, but your fingers are oily and make gripping the tie difficult.
“Let me,” Geralt says. You jump, you didn’t realise he was standing so close behind you.
His fingers brush across the bare skin of your neck as he pulls at the strings of your apron and his touch makes your spine tighten and lock. His body presses against your back as he reaches around your waist and unties the long doubled over strings tied your front. He doesn’t move when the apron loosens and you pull it off, instead he rests his hands on your hips while you wipe your oily fingers on the roughened cotton.
“I have to wash my hands,” you say, proud of the fact that your voice is calm and strong. “Take a seat.”
You slip out of Geralt’s reach and over to your fireplace. You take the kettle from its spot on your stove and pour some heated water into your wash bowl and quickly lather your hands in soap. You take the time to compose yourself. There are so many questions running through your mind you aren’t sure where to start.
“How did you find me?” you ask while you dry your hands.
“I didn’t,” Geralt says. “I’m as surprised to find you here as you are.”
You nod and keep rubbing your dry hands against the towel.
“It wasn’t for a lack of trying,” he mutters under his breath.
Your brows furrow. Geralt had tried to find you? You found that odd considering the events that led to your parting of ways.
“So I shouldn’t have to move again? Did I cover my tracks?” you ask, dreading the answer.
“If I couldn’t find you, it’s unlikely those fools could.”
You let out a breath you weren’t even aware you had been holding, then fold the towel and place it next to the basin. Although Geralt’s answers are a relief, they do raise more questions.
“So what brings you here then?”
Geralt shifts in the chair. “I was passing through.”
“No, I mean why are you seeking a healer? Are you hurt?”
“No,” he says.
“Then what do you need a healer for?”
“Nevermind. It can wait until I get back to Kaer Morhen.”
“But that's several weeks' journey from here.”
“Vesemir will know what to do.”
“Geralt, please? Just tell me.”
He hums, his lips thinning as he thinks. Then he takes a deep breath and says quickly, “I think I’m unwell, or maybe poisoned by something I am unfamiliar with.”
You frown. He sounds uneasy, that isn’t like him. Immediately your clinical detachment overrides any other emotions you have about Geralt’s unexpected appearance and you begin your examination.
“What are the symptoms?”
“I can’t sleep. There’s an ache in my chest; it’s as if I can’t breathe sometimes. I get headaches, and my heart races sometimes. I can’t concentrate and I’m slow to react.” He relays the information in a tone that tries to make him appear unbothered, as if any one of those symptoms aren’t serious enough on their own, let alone altogether.
“And how long has this been going on?”
“Months,” he says.
Mentally you start checking off symptoms and ask clarifying questions, but each answer he gives only adds to your confusion.
Eventually you shake your head and begin to gather supplies and motion towards the bed. “I’ll need to do a physical examination. Please remove your clothes and lay on the bed. You can cover yourself with the sheet.”
Geralt doesn’t move and for a moment you think he is going to refuse. Then he stands slowly, and begins to pull his loose black shirt from his leather pants.
Although you are a healer and are used to seeing men in all sorts of compromising positions, your face burns while you watch him undress out of the corner of your eye. The last time you saw him partially naked… You shake your head as if that will stop the memories of the night he helped you escape from your old village’s Alderman and his cronies.
When Geralt is settled on the bed, you begin by finding his pulse in his neck. His skin is so warm, almost hot, but not quite feverish. You don’t know a lot about Witchers and how their mutations affect their anatomy and function, but you know enough that Geralt’s heart is beating far faster than it should be.
Your hands move over his chest and down to his belly. He jumps slightly as you dig your fingers into his skin. For a moment your detachment slips and you bite your lip as you look down at your hands resting on Geralt’s stomach. Your fingers brush over his smooth skin in a motion that's much too much like a caress to be professional.
“I’m sorry,” you say, “I should have warned you. I get in my head sometimes and forget that the patient doesn’t know what I’m doing. I’m trying to feel your organs to make sure none are painful or swollen.”
He nods and you inhale deeply, trying to regain your clinical attitude.
You prod at his stomach, searching for his liver. You have to press hard, pushing against muscle much firmer than even that of the strong farmers you’ve treated over the years.
Quickly you become lost in the work and your hands move gently over his muscles, checking his stomach and guts, and his bladder. You’re so caught up in your examination that you don’t notice the growing hardness that lays over his abdomen until your palm accidentally brushes against it.
You pull your hands away as if they had been burnt. You look at Geralt and your lock onto his deep amber eyes. He’s blushing.
Geralt is blushing.
But he does not look away and neither do you.
“When was the last time you were with a woman?” you ask.
There is a subtle change in his face, a slight tightening of the jaw before he finally averts his eyes.
“Months.”
So you can’t rule out some kind of sex disease. Your ears and cheeks feel aflame, but you have to ask.
“When was the last time you touched your…”
Geralt's jaw still twitches beneath the rough growth on his cheek. “I can’t remember.”
“Days, weeks, months?”
“Months.”
“Why haven’t you?”
Geralt drags his gaze back to you and those amber eyes of his are bright, almost glowing in the firelight. It's the kind of look that would once have had your knees shaking, but you put your hands on your hips and look back just as steely eyed.
“I need to know if it still works, Geralt. Can you still maintain—”
“Yes.”
“Can you reach—”
“I don’t know,” he says harshly. Then his voice softens and he says quietly, “I haven’t tried.”
“Why not? Lack of motivation or interest?”
“No.”
“Then why? Lack of available women? I find that hard to believe.”
“It's not hard to believe when the one you want isn’t available,” Geralt mutters so quietly you almost don’t catch it.
“Oh,” you say softly.
You’re beginning to realise what might be wrong with him, but first you have to rule a couple of things out. Your mouth is dry as you clear your throat and lift the sheet and trail your fingers up his inner thigh.
“I have to check… here.”
Geralt closes his eyes, his jaw clenches, and his whole body goes tight as you enclose his sack with your hand. Gently, you roll them with your fingers, searching for lumps or signs of abnormalities. But you find nothing except a perfect example of male vitality, even if he was unable to father children.
Your fingers itch to move higher, to feel his throbbing cock in your hand. He looks so big and thick beneath the thin sheet. You bite your lip as you withdraw your hand, but your eyes never leave the growing wet patch that turns the cloth translucent enough to see the dark and angry reddish, purple skin of the tip of his cock.
Geralt's hand wraps around your wrist stopping you from making your retreat. He says your name in a voice thick with lust.
“Don’t stop,” he says, guiding your hand back beneath the sheet. “Please, I need…” his voice trails off as the tip of your fingers grazes the silky smooth skin of his cock.
“I can help,” you say. “I can give you relief, but it won’t be enough.”
Geralt looks stricken. “Why not?”
“I think you ache. Your body, your mind, your heart… But most of all here…”
You wrap your hand around him. God, he feels so hot and hard, you’re barely able to suppress a moan. Geralt doesn’t hold back, he groans as his hips give a huge jerk and raises himself up and leans on elbows. He throws off the sheet and groans again at the sight of how small your hand looks wrapped around him.
“She must be beautiful,” you say.
“Who?” he says, his eyes fixed on your hand.
“The one who you’re in love with. The one who is making you unwell.”
Geralt tilts his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
You stroke him, moving your hand softly, while you try and fail to keep yourself detached from what you are doing.
“You’re nothing more than lovesick,” you tell him, “I can give you some relief but if you want to be free of this pain, then you must have her.”
He doesn’t say anything, but his lips part and his chest works hard as he keeps staring at your hand. No, not your hand, now he’s staring at you.
“She is,” he says sincerely, “She’s very beautiful.”
“She’s very lucky,” you say.
Geralt shakes his head. “I would be the one that's lucky to have her.”
A spike of jealousy pierces your heart and completely shatters your carefully compartmentalised rational objectivity and releases a surge of erotic desire. You pause, staring into Geralt’s scorching eyes and wonder what on earth you are doing.
You take a deep breath and turn away from him, desperately grasping for a way to remain aloof.
“Lay back and close your eyes,” you tell him.
“It’s better for me if I watch,” he says in a voice that reverberates from deep within his chest.
“Oh,” you breathe.
“Keep going,” he says, “I need this.”
So you keep going. You start lazily, stroking, working him, trying not to notice the pulses of the thick veins, the silkiness of his skin as it slides over him, or the fluid that gathers at the tip that your thumb collects with each sweep over the head.
Harder to ignore are the sounds he makes; the moans that start as gentle rumbles, almost purr like in his throat and quickly become guttural groans.
His hand moves down his belly, slipping beneath your pumping arm and his fingers graze his balls before pulling gently on the skin.
You can’t stop yourself and you glance at him, his eyes are waiting there for yours. He growls, sweat breaks over his brow and makes the hair on his chest glisten in the firelight. He’s beautiful; the quintessential picture of maleness, and full of animal sexual lust.
And he can’t take his eyes off you.
The hand between his legs is suddenly wrapped around your waist as he sits up. His mouth is so close, all of him is so close, and somehow just being held by him is far more intimate than having your hand wrapped around his cock.
His hand is on your cheek, his nose rubs against yours and he whispers, “Why did you leave?”
Your brows furrow with confusion. “I… Because I got away. You said you’d help me get away and that was it, we’d go our separate ways.”
“I said I’d take you somewhere safe. That I’d keep you safe.”
“Same thing,” you say.
“No,” he says so softly, it's barely more than a rough breath. “No it’s not.”
His thumb runs over your lips, his fingers caress your neck.
“I searched for you,” he says. “For so long. Then, I mourned you. I still mourn you.”
“I’m right here, Geralt,” you tell him. “I’m alright.”
“But I’m not. You made me love sick.”
You gasp. Your body starts to tremble, as you try to make sense of what he said.
“Geralt—”
His fingers cover your lips to hush you and he whispers, “Don’t stop, let me have this just once and I’ll be gone if you want me to.”
You nod and he sighs with relief. You look down at your hand still firmly wrapped around his cock. Keeping your eyes on Geralt’s, you bend at the waist, licking your lips. His eyes grow dark as he watches your tongue peek sweep across the soft verges of your mouth.
“Fuck, what are you doing?” Geralt asks, in a voice that hints at panic but also deep longing.
You keep lowering your head until your lips brush over the silky skin of his cock and your lips part, taking him into your mouth. Geralt shudders and with a long moan, falls back onto the bed.
“Fuck.”
His hands cradle your head, stroking your hair, caressing your neck, touching you as much as he can while he arches up into your mouth. You fall into a rhythm, your hand moves over him while your mouth follows, sucking softly and massaging with your tongue.
It’s not long until his breath starts to catch in his throat and starting at his thighs and belly, tremors seem to work through his muscles until his whole body is trembling.
He’s close, and part of you wants to draw back because you don’t want this to end so soon. But he lifts his head and you see the look on his face, see the need burning in his eyes and the unspoken desperate plea in his parted lips.
You move faster, sucking harder and taking him deeper into your mouth. He needs this and you want to ease him of the suffering he’s had all these months. He bends his leg, his heel digs deep into the hard mattress as he calls your name while his body surges. He holds your head in place while he begins to release thick and heavy jets into your mouth.
A little shaken, you release him from your mouth and raise your head. You let him go, allowing your fingers to trail over his thigh while his muscles twitch as he catches his breath. His eyes are closed and a smile breaks across his face.
While your heart soars to see him enjoying his post orgasm euphoria, there is a heaviness in your chest.
Geralt loves you.
And you don’t know what to do about it.
While he’s distracted and to hopefully give you time to think, you fall back onto what you know. You pour fresh water into your wash bowl and bring it over to the bed, carefully wring out the cloth and begin to wash him. Falling into an almost meditative state, you start to wash his hand, watching with satisfaction as the road dust and dirt wipes away.
You work your way up his arm, then his shoulders, then you lean over the broad expanse of his chest to clean his face. His eyes are open now, watching you expectantly.
He lets you wipe his brow, then down his nose and sweep across his cheeks. Before you get to his lips, you lower your head and press your lips against his.
As his arms encircle your waist and he kisses you back, you decide you will never let him become love sick again.
#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fan fiction#geralt of rivia#geralt of rivia x reader#geralt of rivia fanfiction#geralt#the witcher#geralt x reader#geralt x y/n#geralt z rivii#geralt fanfic#geralt x you#geralt of rivia x you
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Scars
Prompt: Intense & Angry, Bath or Shower Sex from @livesinfantasyland (x) Thank you!
Pairing: Evan Marshall x Female Reader
Word Count: Approx. 2.1k
Warnings: Smut with Angst, arguing, p in v sex, m dom vibes
Authors Note: As always I need to thank my amazing mates and readers @nashibirne and @amberangel112, your thoughtful and honest comments are always appreciated.
This is my first time ever writing Evan. It was a tough one for me to attempt with Evan because it isn't the prompt I would have picked, but I enjoyed writing a new character and had fun with it. Once again, this is longer than I initially planned and I hope you enjoy it.
Edited by me, there will be errors.
Dividers by me.
Masterlist
Celebration Masterlist
“We need to talk.”
You don’t need to look up from undoing your boots to know who has barged into the women’s locker room and spoken. You’d know Evan’s voice anywhere, you’ve worked with him on and off for a few years now.
“I think you said enough on the ride back here,” you say, trying to stay calm.
“Not nearly enough,” he says, “You still don’t think you did anything wrong.”
You stand up, still not looking at him and start undoing your overshirt. “Would you have given the same instruction to Larry?”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“Would you have given the same instruction to a man?”
“Oh Jesus Christ, here we go,” Evan says, looking to the ceiling and clenching his fist.
“Or did you only try and stop me from doing my job because you used to fuck me and now you feel guilty?”
“It’s got nothing to do with that!” Evan shouts, punching out at the row of lockers across you.
You take a step back from him, your eyes wide. Evan has always had a slight temper, but for him to physically lash out like that isn’t something you would expect. He notices your reaction and his face softens. You consider letting it go, you’ve made your point and don’t need his apology. It isn’t as if it was ever serious between you two, it had only ever been a casual thing. However, this conversation has been a long time coming and you need to have it out.
“It has everything to do with it,” you tell him, “You changed. Since you disappeared for weeks last Halloween, you’ve changed. I know things wouldn’t be the same after we stopped hooking up, but I didn’t expect you to be so fucking cold.”
“How am—”
Evan cuts himself off with a strangled curse as your hand rests against his chest.
“Don’t touch me there,” he says without seeming to breathe and his face twists with fury.
You withdraw your hand and the two of you stare each other down. Evan opens his mouth to say something but then clenches his jaw closed so hard his teeth clash against each other audibly.
“Fuck it,” he mutters and abruptly turns and walks away.
“Come back! This isn’t done,” you call to him.
“Fuck you,” he says and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.
You stare after him, trying to smother the rage that boils deep in your guts. You don’t know how long you stand there with your eyes closed and fists clenched, breathing deeply through your nose until your fury simmers.
But it doesn’t.
If anything, the longer you stand there the angrier you feel. Your mind starts to work over every interaction you’ve had with him since he came back. Every rejected advance, every cold comment and every frosty glance plays over and over like a best of compilation in your mind switching from one to another until you can’t take it anymore. Without being aware of what you’re doing until you're pushing the men’s locker room door open, you follow him, and stomp your way to the showers.
The sight that greets you makes you gasp. Evan stands under the shower naked, gloriously so. His chiselled face is so handsome that you sometimes forget he has the body to match; tall, athletically toned with the bare minimum of fat overlaying his sinewy muscles. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him, and that isn’t the only thing that has changed.
Beneath the rivulets of steaming water that run down his chest and amongst the hair that grows across his pecs is a scar. It is new, it hadn’t been there before. You’ve seen enough stabbing and knife attack victims to know the scar isn’t from a fight. It looks purposeful, like it was done by design; the lines too straight and too much like a symbol to have been done by accident.
You raise your eyes to Evan's and the unasked question is written all over your face.
“I can’t tell you,” he says, simply, “don’t ask me to.”
You step over the tile lip and into the shower space. Warm water seeps into your socks, but you barely notice. All you can see is the frigid intensity of his once warm eyes.
“Just tell me you’re okay,” you say, advancing slowly, drawn so powerfully towards him you can’t stop yourself until you’re under the spray with him, completely indifferent the way your undershirt quickly dampens and sticks to your body.
Evan’s brows draw together and he blinks rapidly but doesn’t answer.
“What can I do?” you ask in a whisper.
He flinches like your words are a slap. Then his face hardens and a grim determination settles in his beautiful but bleak blue eyes.
“You don’t want any part of this,” he says. “Or any part of me.”
“Is that why you’re acting like this?” you ask. Gingerly, you lift your hand to his chest and trace the edge of his scar, careful not to touch it. “You think I wouldn’t want you?”
Without warning his hands are on your cheeks and his mouth is over yours, the edges of your lips are grazed by his short whiskers and you feel a tingle work its way across your skin. You recover quickly from the shock, encircling his neck with your arms and running your fingers over the wet and velvety hair on his head. You move in closer, pressing your sodden clothed body against him.
It isn’t enough. You want to feel him, you want to feel his humid skin all over you. He must have thought the same thing because he breaks the kiss with a groan. His hands work on your belt and you pull your undershirt off over your head, letting it drop to the tiles with a splash you barely register.
His lip curls as he drops his head to roughly capture your breast in his hand and close his mouth around your nipple. You shiver as he sucks on you through the cotton of your bra, the heat of his mouth is so much hotter than even the water that sears at your skin.
You let your head fall back and you close your eyes as you relish the feeling of his mouth on you. Your knees start to feel weak as his hand works its way determinedly into your panties, his fingers working to separate the thick sodden work clothes away from your skin. You grab hold of his shoulders to steady yourself and feel pure muscle rippling under his sweltering, smooth skin. You run your hand down his back, following the path of his spine, until your fingers encounter hardened and raised skin.
Another new scar.
Quickly you snatch back your hand and your eyes snap to Evan. He looks up at you with stormy, fierce eyes and grazes your bud with his teeth before he releases you. A tremor of fear runs down your spine.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, in a quivering voice.
He nods, takes hold of your waist and guides you to turn around until you're facing the tiled wall. He presses his body against you from behind and you can feel his hard cock against the small of your back. His arm wraps around your waist holding you in place while his other hand slides your sticking pants down your thighs.
“I know.” Evan’s lips brush against the shell of your ear as he speaks in a low voice that leaves no room for argument. “Put your hands on the wall.”
A heady rush of heat hits you between your legs and nearly drops you to your knees.
Evan notices and tightens his arm around your waist. “I’ve got you, baby. Hands on the wall. Now.”
“Yes…” you whimper, reaching your shaking hands out to the large square white tiles. Your skin is so electrified and sensitive that even the rough texture of the grout under the pads of your fingers threatens to overwhelm you.
His velvety hot tongue runs a thick strip up your neck as he latches onto you and sucks on the thin skin beneath your ear. Your whole body thrums deep within you, you feel close to orgasm and he hasn’t even really touched you yet.
This was a far cry from the way he had always been with you before. It wasn’t that sex wasn’t good with Evan in the past, it absolutely was, he had always been generous. But he was never what you’d call dominant at all and he was straight up vanilla, almost reserved. You don’t think he’d ever even taken you from behind.
His teeth sink into your earlobe as he tilts your hips and slips a foot between yours to inch your feet apart.
“Stay just like that for me,” he instructs, huskily and you moan, hoping he takes the warbling sound of your voice as agreement.
Soft, hot skin presses against your pussy, forcing your lips to part. You gasp in shock, but it quickly morphs into a gasp of pure pleasure as the thick tip of Evan’s cock rubs against your slick and swollen hidden skin.
“Are you still on the pill?” he asks.
You nod, turning your head towards his.
“Good. I’m going to cum inside you,” he says.
He enters you in one swift and hard thrust. You both cry out and he breathes hard into your ear as he holds himself deep inside you and gives you a moment to get used to his size.
“Evan,” you whine faintly, leaning your head against his shoulder.
He kisses your temple gently. The tenderness makes your eyes widen, but it's a short reprieve.
“Hang on,” he says.
He moves, slowly dragging himself from your core. Then his fingers dig hard into your hips and he pumps hard into you, using your hips for leverage. With each powerful drive, Evan pulls your hips back to meet him and you can’t stop yourself from crying out as he fills you. Your bodies slap hard against each other, the sound mixing with your cries and his grunts of effort. Together the cacophony echoes lewdly through the steam of the shower and bounces off the tiles.
Your head drops and you lean it on your outstretched and locked arms as you brace yourself against his brutal but oh so fucking good onslaught. Then he leans forward until his chest covers your back. One of his hands snakes its way from your hips to between your legs and his fingers slide over your sensitive and throbbing clit.
“Need you to come with me,” he rumbles through his groans.
It’s the kind of thing you’d usually roll your eyes at, but Evan knows your body; he knows just how to touch you to get you over the edge. His mouth latches on your neck, licking, sucking, and grazing his teeth over your vein, while his fingers dance over your clit and he never lets up the primal, fervid pace of his fucking.
“Come with me,” he demands with a guttural growl into your ear.
Your body trembles as your orgasm threatens with such force that your legs give out, and your hands slip from the wall.
“I’ve got you,” Evan assures you as he brings you both to the floor. He pauses just long enough to get you comfortable, slipping your shirt under your knees. “You’re so close, baby. I’ve got you.”
And you are, the brief interruption no match for how aroused and good Evan is making you feel. You reach your peak with a cry and an undulation of your hips that he knows so well. He follows swiftly after, drawing your body so close you can barely breathe and you can feel deep inside you the swelling of his cock with each pulsing release.
As you come down from your high, you concentrate on the sound of the water rather than the ragged breaths of Evan against your ear. Your instincts say you should move, you should run, pretend this never happened, or maybe yell at him some more.
Then his hands are on your cheeks, turning your face to his and wiping away the water that runs into your eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice full of sincerity and concern.
His tone makes you really look at him. For the first time in months there is something in his voice of the Evan of old. You turn your body towards him and reach for him, not even aware that your hand is resting on the centre of his chest, right over the scarred symbol.
Evan's eyes drop to his chest. You wonder if you should move it, but as he raises his eyes, his hand covers yours and holds it close to his heart right above his new scar.
#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fanfiction#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill characters#evan marshall#evan marshall fanfiction#evan marshall fanfic#evan marshall x reader#blood creek#blood creek (2009)
288 notes
·
View notes
Text
What Are You Doing, StepBro?
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Fandom: Stardust (2007)
Pairing: Humphrey x Stepsister!Reader
Word count: 1.4K
Summary: For @sillyrabbit81’s follower milestone celebration; You and Humphrey don’t have the best start, but before long you will reach an arrangement.
Prompt [screenshot at the end]: Playful & Happy, Stepcest, Humphrey (Stardust)
Warnings: smut between step-siblings, I'm not sorry for the title of this fic
A/N: First time and possibly not the last time I write for Humphrey, enjoy!
Divider: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
My Masterlist
It’s not like you and Humphrey were exactly friends, you were acquaintances at best. But when your father and his mother decided to marry, you became his stepsister. He spent more time in the mirror than you, his boring girlfriend hated you, and he was always busy so you had no time to get to know each other.
It wasn’t difficult to get on Humphrey’s nerves and you excelled at it. You would move a perfect curl off-kilter or crinkle his sleeve and it would piss him off so much that he would hiss at you. But after a while, he would anticipate your attempts to annoy him. He would come to love it, expecting your advances around every corner.
He would playfully wrestle you, trapping your wrists above your head. Enjoying the way your breathing hitched and how your breasts would heave up in your dresses. Anyone who would see this would know Humphrey was playing a dangerous game. Which is one reason he kept these feelings close to his chest.
Victoria and you were none the wiser, even when Humphrey would make faces at you across the dinner table. His roaming hands would linger at the small of your back on a stroll through town. He would take you on picnics and feed you pieces of fruit, making it impossible not to take his fingers into your mouth. When passing you at home, he would make sure to bump his crotch into your ass too many times not to start to notice something was up. He was doing the most and he was getting sloppy. You could just let it go, but if you were one thing, you were horny.
Horny enough to get into the pants of your gorgeous and willing stepbrother. I mean, you weren’t blood-related. You didn’t even look alike, so you saw no problem with having a taste of forbidden fruit.
You were patient with Humphrey and with your newly married parents. Soon, your schedule would make it perfect to be alone with your stepbrother. Your parents would be attending a dinner in a nearby town and Humphrey was tasked with keeping you company while your parents were away. You both kept up appearances by seeming bothered, Humphrey’s hand under the table squeezing your inner thigh told a different story. It conveyed to you all you needed to know.
While your parents busied themselves with preparation, you and Humphrey were in the library, taking turns reading to one another. You read humbly so that your parents couldn’t hear the erotica you read your stepbrother. His rapt attention feeds your willingness to give him more. You ghosted your hand down your neck and over pert and supple breasts. The book in his hands is soon forgotten and dropped to the floor as your parents step in to say their goodbyes.
You lock eyes with Humphrey as you hear the front door close.
“Yours or mine, dear Sister?” Humphrey got straight to the point, his erection straining in his pressed pants.
“Neither,” He was undoubtedly confused, his brow furrowing, “I want you to take me here so we can be reminded of each other daily. I hope you can be amenable to that, dear Brother?”
“More than amenable,” he enunciates, unbuttoning his breeches to free his eager and flushed cock, “I’d say I was downright enthusiastic.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” You declare, kneeling in front of him to stroke his girth, “I’ll take matters into my own hands, sweet Brother.”
“I’d rather you take matters into that filthy little mouth of yours,” He fists your hair, tilting your head back until you smile at one another, “You like it, don’t you? You like being my little slut?” Your moan is more than enough of an answer, but he still shoves you down the length of his prick.
He fucks into your mouth as you move your hands from his hips around to rest on his ass. He enjoys how you are trying to get every inch inside, pulling him closer until your nose is buried into the curly hair at the base of his dick.
“That’s my good girl,” He proclaims, knowing how to keep you merry, “Fuck, your mouth is so hot and tight, but I bet it pales in comparison to your cunt. Shall we test that theory?” He pulls his cock out of your mouth, a wet trail of spit still connecting the two of you.
You smile up at him, already cock-drunk. “Please, use me, Big Brother, I’m all yours.” You plead with him, knowing you don’t have to beg. He’s more than happy to use you.
“Such a good girl for me, Little Sister. You make me so delighted. Lay on your back, love, I wish to see your face when I enter you,” You flop on your ass, laying back and all but ripping down your pettipants to reveal how soaked you are.
Humphrey holds your legs open and enters you after running the tip of his dick through your folds, grunting as he does so. He smiles as he watches your face, adjusting to the squeeze of your tight pussy. He leans down, feigning as if he were to kiss your neck, and blows a raspberry on it instead, sending you into a fit of giggles.
“At a time like this, you wish to make me laugh?” You hold your side, laughter dying down as Humphrey nuzzles your nose with his own.
“I couldn’t help myself. I enjoy you, Little Sister,” He hits a particular pace that is gentle yet firm, “As I enjoy you, I enjoy this cunt of yours. Or should I call it mine?”
“It’s yours, Big Brother. Fuck your fucking cunt,” You all but scream out, Humphrey’s strokes and words exciting you to no end.
“Cum on my cock, dear Sister, show me how you enjoy my dick inside you,” At Humphrey’s words, you feel the bubble burst on your orgasm, your pussy fluttering around him setting him ablaze. “Fuck, I’m going to fill you so full of my seed, Sister…” He trails off, his hips stuttering as he stills abruptly.
“Yes, Brother, fill me until I’m so full of you,” You can still feel him twitching inside of you when he suddenly pulls out, going to lay between your legs. You think he wishes to watch his seed leak out of you, then you feel his tongue. His tongue dances along your folds, no doubt tasting your combined arousal.
“Cum on my tongue, Sister. I want you to give me all you’ve got,” And those words are enough to elicit from you another orgasm, this time on his lips and tongue instead of his prick. He laps it up like the polite boy he is, pulling your skirts back down over your legs and laying down next to you on the library floor. He reaches an arm over you, closing his eyes for a moment.
You both lay on the floor until you hear knocking at the front door.
“Fuck me, I forgot I was supposed to see Victoria today!” Humphrey harshly whispers, not moving to go answer the door, “Perhaps if I ignore her, she’ll give up?”
“Yeah, she’s definitely the type to give up when she doesn’t get something the first time,” You tease, wriggling out of Humphrey’s hold on you, “Just go and end her suffering and go to dinner or whatever it was.”
“No, I’m happier here with you, Little Sister,” Humphrey gets up from the floor and straightens himself before walking to the front door, coughing and sneezing before he opens the door.
You can hear him putting on the act tenfold but you don’t dare peek around the corner, keeping your mouth covered lest she hears your laugh. You hear the door close and footsteps come back down the hall and stop behind you.
“So what do you say we have an early dinner and I’ll read to you about those old pirates you love so much,” He could always persuade you, that was more than evident as of now.
“That sounds lovely, Big Brother,” You lifted yourself from the floor finally and followed him out of the room and through your home.
A/N: I’ve never written Humphrey before, so yeah. But I’ve seen Stardust probably around twenty to thirty times so I feel like I’m doing good.
**Tag List**
Henry Fanfiction: @enchantedbytomandhenry
Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz! 😁
**Screenshot of Prompt:**
#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill#henry cavill characters#humphrey stardust#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill smut#henry cavill x reader#ellethespaceunicorn fanfic
168 notes
·
View notes
Text
Milestone Celebration 2023
Masterlist of fics for the celebration by me and other amazing writers who contributed. Thank you so much to all the writers who participated.
Original post with the prompt game can be found here.
Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe: Slow & Romantic/ Tied Up by @ellethespaceunicorn
In All Things, Patience: Gentle & Commanding/ Stepcest by @miss-rebel-without-applause
Scars: Intense & Angry/ Bath or Shower Sex by @sillyrabbit81
A Waiting Place: Slow & Romantic / Mirror Sex, by @deandoesthingstome
Love Sick: Slow & Romantic/ Medical Play, by @sillyrabbit81
What Are You Doing, StepBro?: Playful & Happy/ Stepcest, by @ellethespaceunicorn
Say It: Embarrassed & Shy/ Dirty Talk, by @sillyrabbit81
Caught: Playful & Happy/ Caught Masturbating, by @geralts-yenn
Tongue-Tied: Playful & Happy/ Tied up // Smug & Sadistic/ Dirty talk, by @raccoon-eyed-rebel
Baby, It's Cold Outside: Playful & Happy/ Uniform or Costume, by @raccoon-eyed-rebel
Mystery: Sleepy & Lazy/ Bath or Shower Sex, by @wordywarriorwrites
Curious: Possessive & Rough/ Mutual Masturbation, by @sillyrabbit81
Fuse: Sleepy & Lazy/ Daddy Kink, by @sillyrabbit81
Exposed: Possessive & Rough/ Face Fucking, by @fvckinghenrycavill
Dangle the Carrot: Smug & Sadistic / virginity by @sillyrabbit81
Cold: Slow & Romantic / Cock Warming, by @sillyrabbit81
175 notes
·
View notes
Text
Milestone Celebration 2023
Thank you so much for following me! I'm so humbled and grateful for the follows, likes, comments, and reblogs I have received on this platform over the past two years. Your support is appreciated. To say thank you, I ran a poll to see how you think I should celebrate.
As a result of the poll, I thought we could play a screenshot game together. I will set out the rules below, but I thought it might be fun to have you not only send in asks for the game, but also to participate yourselves and contribute a short story.
How to play:
Scroll down to the three gifs below (under the cut because they are flashing). The gifs will have a "Mood", a "Character" and a "subject or kink".
Take a screenshot of all three gifs at once (they should fit on a phone screen - it may not work on desktop.) (God I hope it works on all phones 🤣)
What ever the screenshot captures will be the prompt for your story. E.g. "Slow & Romantic", "Walter", and "Choking".
Either send in a copy of the screenshot to me through my asks (Anons will not be able to participate) or write a short story yourself. I'm hoping to keep my stories to about 500 words, but you are welcome to write more or less than that.
If you use the prompt yourself, please tag @sillyrabbit81 me so I can reblog it and add it to the celebration masterlist and use the tag #rabbitsmilestone23 in the first 5 tags.
I will be accepting asks for this Celebration for the next seven days. I hope to start posting after that. If you chose to write something yourself, there is not real deadline for participating, I want to keep this fun and stress free.
Any questions, just ask me! Enjoy and thank you so much for following.
❤️ Rabbit
#rabbitsmilestone23#henry cavill#thank you to my followers#thank you to all of you#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fanfic#sillyrabbit81#sillyrabbit81 milestone celebration#milestone celebration#follower milestone
83 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
trash-opposum
Rian/Opposum
opensunday
OPEN SUNDAY
alexwlwesker
Where's Your Sense of Self-Preservation?
themuskrater
Zach Clawges
idontgiveaflyinggrayson69
*screaming internally*